Wake Up Call
by GummyBears231
Summary: Blaine is struggling with his abusive home life ever since his mother's death. After being shipped around to various schools because of his unaccepted sexuality, Blaine's father sends him to McKinley, where he meets the life changing Kurt Hummel. Trigger warning: physical abuse.
1. Blaine Anderson

**AUTHORS NOTE:** Just so you guys know, I wrote this as a season 2/3 "mash up". In my story the characters are the same age as they are in the show. Kurt never went to Dalton, and Blaine has been to a different school each year. I'll try to clear things up as I go along, so you can get a picture of the time frame better!

I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING RELATED TO GLEE.

* * *

><p>He liked to bike around at night. Just for the sheer purpose of viewing other households. He liked to peer into other realities, and out of curiosity, to see if he could spot exactly what "normal" was.<p>

Nighttime was his blanket. It sheltered him from the few people he might run into, and it also gave him the chance to scout without anyone recognizing his face… though he was sure everyone recognized him anyway, he was out there almost every other night.

Anything to get away from his father, and biking was a release. The cold night air rose against his cheek as he glided down hill after endless hill in his new neighborhood, a sporadic bug encounter nearly startled him off his bike, but he didn't care. He was more apathetic with each sunrise.

On occasion he'd find some things of value. Whether he had to steal them or if they were willfully laid out for the garbage man to pick up… he always took what he thought valuable. Little presents just for him. Valuable for selling to a pawnshop, or perhaps proving –sometimes- to be things he could turn into DIY items.

He came to his favorite court, Buckhurst, where he passed the silhouette of a statue of Venus and a house with tiny stained glass roses on the front door windows.

He liked to think of the lives behind those windows. Warm bodies, fixed meals, and large down feather beds. He didn't really want those things. Those things would make him like everybody else. Like he used to be.

Then what would he have, charming good looks and sharp wit? _HA._ Who would he been then? He often spiraled into this web of dark thoughts, but he never really liked to check out to long because it only made him tired. Answers to those questions weren't vital anyways; he could figure them out later.

The only answers he was good at giving were in school, and those answers ranged from snarky comments to elaborate two paged calc problems.

He was to smart for his own good. At least that's what his teacher Mr. Kelly used to say, and-

A porch light flickered on as he circled the court, God he hated those. How could he forget it was there? He'd only been here a billion times…

He stopped for a moment, and ran his hands through his thick curly hair… hair that almost matched the dark landscape swallowing him whole. His mother had loved his hair.

His stomach jolted, and shifting his eyes from the smooth, black pavement he decided it might be time to go home. Situated on his bike so that his right leg was firmly pushing his boot to the ground, and his left still straddling the bike from the adjacent side, his dry hazel eyes shot to the porch-lit house once more.

He had guessed what was inside a million times. This was both his favorite house, and his favorite game.

A wife, a husband, probably a few father worked a 9-5. The mother had to be a trophy wife or something, and their kids almost certainly got straight A's.

He had deciphered that their son was probably the quarterback on the football team, and their daughter did ballet. He could tell, not from sight – he had never seen the family inside-, but from the stickers on the various cars in the driveway. Tonight a new sticker caught his eye: WMHS. McKinley kids.

He wondered if he could pick them out in school on Monday. Tomorrow. _Shit._

He grunted_. They were just another Catholic family to drive around town in their "mini van", and attend church every Sunday... nauseating._ Why he had this families life so etched into his head he couldn't figure out, but every detail was so intricate and defined he had no other choice but to expand on it.

Probably because that's what his life used to be like. Well, before the incident, anyway.

He continued his thoughts, eyes fixed on the statue of Venus to his left.

_The mom made "supper" every night at six and blah blah blah. A good little Catholic family_… he kept repeating in his head.

He wanted to spit_. I bet their sons a fag and the daughter a whore. Husband sleeping with some bitch on the side..._

He turned away and considering continuing his route. A gunshot of heat spread from his stomach to his chest.

He wasn't jealous. He liked his solitude. It was the only thing constant in his life. That pain was his only reminder he was still breathing, and frankly, right now he would turn the whole world with his bare fists rather than give it away.

He squinted his eyes in the thick darkness coming in around him. It was getting late, which meant his father would A) already be passed out, or B) he was in for a blackout himself when he got home.

He wondered if his neighbors knew. Ever since his mom killed herself last year there had been a distinct silence from all of them. Sometimes they'd glance over at his house, but not the friendly kind, and no waves. Just glances.

It had been the summer after he came out to his parents, that she did it. His freshman year: The year that's supposed to pave the way to everything great about high school.

It had done just the opposite. Not only had he lost his mother, but the kids there. They were just, horrible. They hated him because of his sexuality. Every day he would go home miserable and in tears to his father, but his father never understood.

Instead he shipped him to a Prep School, because if fixing a car wouldn't turn him into a man - then maybe, just maybe – if he were educated enough, he wouldn't be gay anymore. He wouldn't be an embarrassment. He could be his son.

His neighbors knew he had been there when it happened, and had seen it occur. They probably thought he had issues himself, let alone the issues his father had.

They had to have heard the fights, seen the fists, or listened to the flesh pound into his stomach repeatedly every single night. _Fuck._

This time he did spit, and just as he began to peddle again he heard a voice,

"Excuse me?"

* * *

><p>The porch light was on again.<p>

Carole would make the worst victim in situations like this. Finn too. They could sleep through anything. But Burt, that was a different story. He slept with one eye open. Ever since the loss of his first wife, and kids had started picking on Kurt he decided that he had to be more careful.

"_Dad…" _He remembered the first time Kurt had come home from school with the bruises. Burt had rushed to his side to see what was wrong. Responding to his dad's clumsy reflexes, Kurt had responded in his most delicate voice.

Kurt had put up both hands, as if ready to stop oncoming traffic (it wasn't that he, Burt, was _that_ big… Kurt was just so small in comparison that it frightened him as a father sometimes).

"_It's nothing dad. They just don't understand perfection yet. One day I'll be on Broadway laughing in all of their sad, little faces. But until then, pass me an ice pack, I'll be downstairs if you need me."_ The way his son's eyes lit up when he mentioned Broadway made Burt laugh to himself. Kurt was so strong. Kurt was his pillar.

Why was he up again? The light, the porch light, it was on. Right. He was so tired. The shop was busier than usual yesterday, and he really needed the sleep tonight.

Burt sat up hastily and rubbed his eyes. _No time for the routine ol' man. Get up, get a shirt on, and get out there._ So he did just that, and as soon as he picked up the bat he slipped out of the side door to see what had triggered the light.

It was that kid again. The one from Tranquil Lane, down the road. Jeez, this had to be the third time in the past two weeks he had been out here.

Burt felt uneasy. Originally, he had thought this guy was just curious about the area. Not now though. Something was up. There had to be a reason why he had come out here so many times. It had to be Kurt.

He looked like he was trouble. Burt wasn't usually one to judge appearance, but the kid had trouble written all over him. Thing was, it was clothing based only. If he had a shave, a haircut, and a wardrobe change he would be unmistakable for a regular, run-of-the-mill McKinley student.

Burt eyed the unlaced black ankle boots, thick untamed curls, tight black skinny jeans, and a fitted tee covered in a large leather jacket- had he just?

"Excuse me." He hadn't heard himself talk yet tonight, and the words startled him as much as they did the teen standing in front of him.

"You just spit on my car."

"Yeah?"

"You going to clean it off?"

Burt was feeling uneasy. He shouldn't have said anything. He gripped the bat from fear. Why was he scared? He had to be no older than 16, 17 at most. Burt was more than twice that in age, and Carole always prided him on being a strong surly man.

_Did you just laugh at me? Did I say something funny to you, Huh?_ He knew he shouldn't be too hard on the kid. He had heard from neighbors that he had been through a lot in the past couple of years. He opted for other words.

Burt didn't even know his name, but he knew his story. At least he knew part of his story, from what the neighbors had inferred. Maybe he could use it to keep him away from his house?

He really didn't want to use death as a means of crossing emotional boundaries, but he had to keep his family safe if this kid was dangerous… he had to keep Kurt safe, and now Finn and Carole too. He had to be a strong father. _For Carole, _he thought… _For Carole. _

It was after Burt had made a comment about the boy's mother when he realized he had missed something big.

The other's eyes had widened, almost in shock that Burt would say something like that. Why?

They had widened because he knew who was yelling threats at him, and oh God Burt knew _exactly_ who the boy was too.

He was almost unrecognizable now, but Burt had put a lot together in the past thirty seconds -and if this was… if this was Blaine Anderson… then, God did he regret what he just said. But, he had changed, and most definitely not in a good way. He needed to talk to the kids. He needed to talk to Kurt.

* * *

><p>He stared. Amidst all his thoughts he hadn't noticed the side door to the house open. A tall man, neither slim nor fat slipped out, bat in hand.<p>

Luckily the porch light was still on, because both of them immediately knew who stood before the other. Or at least, that's what Blaine thought.

_When did Mr. Hummel move here? I thought he lived near his shop?_ Blaine was embarrassed. Luckily his scarlet cheeks couldn't be seen to well amid the porch lights and the shadows around him.

_You have a new life now. That Blaine was weak. This Blaine is strong._ It was a new life that he wouldn't let go, no matter how nice this man had been in his previous one.

"You just, spit on my car."

"Yeah?"

"You going to clean it off?" said the man.

He chuckled to himself "No? I'm not cleaning _anything_ off your little conformist piece of shit scrap metal. Do it yourself."

He was surprised at how angry he'd gotten. He must have shown it on his face because the man followed him up with, "You need to readjust your attitude son, and you know it. Don't come back over here or I'll call the cops on you. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'm serious, I've seen you out here night after night. Don't think I haven't figured out what you're up to kid. The second I hear of something going missing I'm sending the law your way. You live up the street down near Tranquil Lane don't you? That mother of yours killed herself last year. Look at you. She would be disgusted."

He saw the man second-guess his last statement. It was as if he realized he had struck Blaine's last nerve. He spoke, "Bl-?" but Blaine was about to crack.

He had heard the kids at school talk about his mother like that, but never an adult. Well, never someone other than his father. He felt sick, every muscle in his body ached.

Burt Hummel had a new life too apparently. "Listen you fat fuck. Go ahead, and send the pigs over. I could care less. They're probably just as large and useless as you are. They wouldn't have proof of anything, and neither would you. You know nothing about my mother or how she died, how _dare_ you make assumptions that just because my mom killed herself I'm going to go around stealing your worthless commercial junk."

More outside lights flicked on, "Hun? You alright?"

"Carole, that kids out here again, go inside, and tell Kurt we need to talk." Blaine made a fist. The man caught a glimpse and feeling threatened by this whispered in his fiercest tone, "My son, Kurt… stay away from here kid." White noise filled the black of the night silently hanging their words in the air.

_Son? Interesting._ That summer he never realized Mr. Hummel had a son. He just thought that he had been a lonely old man helping him and his dad pick out parts for their "summer project."

He strained his eyes trying to peer into the life of the stranger, but he saw nothing.

He longed to see "Kurt"… for a beautiful porcelain face. Originally, he thought the old man was packing a daughter up in those vine-encrusted windows.

A son was much, much better. He thought of his dad. Of how he reacted when Blaine had told him that he was gay. He felt even sicker than before. That aching pain had spread from his chest to his throat.

Maybe he would find this "Kurt," and teach Mr. Hummel a lesson on respecting others. _He seemed pretty uptight about his son anyway, so I'm sure I can figure something out to get under his skin._

He wanted whatever he did to make Kurt cry to his daddy. He wanted to destroy Kurt inside and out. Then maybe the old man would learn a lesson or two about respecting others. Especially respecting other's deceased parents.

Other's deceased parents who happened to become deceased on their son's birthday.

_I really need to get home._


	2. Another New Life

Thing was, Blaine knew how people saw him. He just didn't know how to change it. He kind of liked people feeling threatened by his presence.

He didn't want fatty yelling at him like he was a failure. He wanted praise, or a "Hey Blaine, well done!" He wanted to fall in love just like everyone else, even though he told himself repeatedly that he didn't.

In-fact, the thing he hated most about himself was that he was gay. At least, that was what his dad had taught him. If he ever found love, he would never be accepted. He was contaminated with this despicable lust for someone like him, but he couldn't stop himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the impulse. That need for a chest – soft skin gently pressed to his, or a kiss delicately placed on his eager lips. _Stop. Just. Stop._

He hated when his mind wandered. (Which was quite often) He waited for something, someone, and anything to wake him up from this horrible feeling of constant regret.

He also knew that nobody beautiful could ever want a pathetic waste of space like him. He was just another gay kid with daddy issues. He would never find beauty, and beauty would never find him. He wouldn't know what to do with it anyway. His life had turned so dark.

When his mom died, he was devastated. He tried to find things to replace her, but he was permanently broken. So was his father. Sometimes he couldn't blame his dad for the rage directed towards him because Blaine felt the same way. This had proved to be the only thing they had in common, aside from their love for his mother, and their pronounced jaw lines.

So, yes, he tried some drugs, but only because people expected him to, and only because they made him feel so good. This was a very temporary thing. He wouldn't let it escalate to being a problem. All he did was smoke cigarettes, and occasionally use marijuana or alcohol too. He had experimented with other things, but he wasn't that type of kid, He never had been. He thought back to the last holiday when his dad found something in his backpack that he had been holding for his friend Wes.

That night was bad.

He had just transferred to Dalton, and being the new kid he was terrified. His last school had crushed anything he ever was, and he had decided to put the old Blaine to sleep. Bags of his cardigans, polo shirts, and bowties were carefully tucked away and hid in the depths of his closet. He remembered that being one of the few times he laughed last, for he had also tucked his various sorts of gels privately beneath his stash of clothing.

He didn't even like coke. It didn't last long enough to free him from his own thoughts. He had just gotten home from a show, still hyped up from whatever he had tried that night and he had been drinking…

So had his dad. He couldn't remember well, but as soon as he stepped through the door his father threw him against a wall and ripped his pack off. His thoughts were screaming at him to say something.

"You're fucked up again!" Mr. Anderson yelled.

Blaine never responded. He just let his dad beat him.

He knew better than to fight. It only made things much, much worse. After he had found the coke, he remembered maybe two, three punches. Then he woke up on the ground to an empty bag and a coked up father.

He wasn't always like this. It was coming out to his father that sparked the change. Everything was perfect before. It drove them apart. His parents. God he missed his mom. He ached for her.

Never did he wear the boots, the jacket; never had he left his hair to turn into a woven mess of black curls. She would still love him though, he was sure of it.

He thought of his blue, red-rimed blazer in his room. The one he would glance at every night before he went to bed. _That's in the past, Blaine._

He missed Dalton. He missed his uniform. My, how he longed for the little guidelines he used to follow. No ones hair was permitted to be longer than their ears. His short-gelled hair, used to fair well in the wind. Now, the mess on his head went wild in the gusts that intertwined each individual lock before returning to the unknown.

His dad was wrong, by the way. About his prep school turning him straight. In-fact, the all boys' high school embraced him for who he was. He even kissed a boy or two, but he never worked up the courage to do much else. He woke up happy almost every morning, until holidays came around, and he had to return home from boarding.

That summer when he returned his dad finally put things together. Mr. Anderson had gotten much worse with Blaine out of the house. They had a nice home, in a nice neighborhood too, but it was very apparent that the place hadn't been taken care of in months. Beer bottles were strewn about the living room, and his dad looked angrier and more disheveled than ever.

He hated seeing Blaine happy.

His father was a tall, average man. He had short black hair, but not curly like Blaine's. Blaine had gotten that from his mother. His eyes were a deep shade of yellowy green, and he had deep sunken shadows beneath each eye as if to say, "_Hey, I'm watching you. I'm always watching you._" Blaine often thought of his father as a snake. He was a snake, ready to strike at the slightest prediction of movement.

He hadn't been welcomed home since Christmas past, and the first thing his father said to him upon arrival was, "You still think like a woman?" Blaine knew he shouldn't have gotten upset, but he made the mistake of replying,

"You mean gay, dad? Am I still _hot_ for men?" He said with a furrowed brow and taut smiling lips. His hazel eyes piercing into his fathers, noting the reflection of how small he looked in his father's now dilated pupils.

"Yes."

"I am."

_SLAM._ He hadn't seen the fist because he was busy staring into the fire behind his father's eyes. The smack reverberated off of the walls, and Blaine lost his breath for a moment. Gasping, fear shook him to his very core, and those tears were nothing compared to the sobs that escaped his crumpled body when he hit the floor. "Why can't you be happy for me, dad?" he cried. Face in hands, sideways on the floor. "I'm your son! I'm your son!" He curled his knees up to his chest. He wanted to die. He kept repeating the last sentence in-between sobs on the floor. He hated himself.

His father turned silently, deeply immersed in the hatred for his own flesh and blood. "You're not going back to that fag school next year. I'll have to find somewhere more suitable for your…. needs." And with a final kick, he returned to the living room.

It had been a couple months after, and here he was. Ready to start at his third high school in the past three years tomorrow. McKinley High. Blaine sighed to himself. He felt so, lost.

He had run away from public school once, and he had planned on never returning. _I'm stronger now, I am. I could probably take care of people like David at my new school… but… what if I cant? What if there's no one like me there? Blaine, you're being ridiculous. Fucking man up, and stop acting so… so…. Gay. _He drew out the last word in his thoughts as if he had stumbled upon something dead, and distant.

He couldn't let the old Blaine out. Not once. Not if he was going to fit in there, and certainly not if he wanted to continue his plot concerning Mr. Hummel. _Kurt_, he thought. _See you tomorrow, cant wait._

* * *

><p>"Kurt! You're going to be late for school, get up here!" Carole yelled from the landing.<p>

Loud scattered footsteps rained down above Kurt's tiny body, which was completely wrapped in covers. _Oh my God did Finn wake up before me? _He checked the time: 7:30AM. Class began in thirty minutes.

Luckily Kurt had planned his first day of school outfit last night. It had taken him hours, but after long consideration he had decided on wearing a tight pair of black jeans, with a black belt (even though his tall slender body didn't need one, it was a fashion must.), and gray long sleeve button up complimented by a black four-buttoned vest.

This, of course wouldn't stop Karofsky from throwing him into the dumpster, or shoving him into a locker, but-

"Dude, come upstairs before my mom flips out. Even I'm ready before you are…"

Finn would never understand the importance of beauty sleep.

"Okay Finn, I'll be up in a minute. Let me just moisturize really quick and I'll meet you in the car!"

He could hear Finn's sigh from his dirty mess of sheets. It made him smile. _I still can't believe that Finn Hudson is my stepbrother. To think, I used to go pink when he looked at me, let alone spoke to me. Now, here I am scorning the thought of him because my routine has been interrupted._

Kurt hoped every year that there would be another grand addition to the McKinley high student body. He wanted desperately to be - at least - the second gay kid to go there. Was it too much to ask? Reaching down to slip on his left shoe he imagined the feeling of holding a hand while walking to class, but he was interrupted by the start of an engine somewhere above his ceiling.

They should _really_ do something about the insulation in here. He struggled enough with his private Glee Club rehearsals having the basement as his room. He was almost always interrupted to quiet down. For instance, on Sundays, voice was a no-go. That was football night, and the sound of Kurt's stereo blaring Broadway showstoppers or Katy Perry was definitely not appreciated. Kurt had a keyboard, but he didn't know how to play. Maybe if he learned it he could at least practice melodies through his earphones… _another day_, he thought.

If his personal practice time was too loud, he couldn't even imagine having a boy over. Kurt blushed. Had that happened twice in the past couple minutes? Good one, Kurt Hummel! It's going to be a long day.

He dashed upstairs, grabbed some toast, and met Finn at their car.

"Not cool dude." Finn clumsily said as he fastened his seatbelt, and pulled out with Kurt barely in the next seat.

"Remember if Karofsky gives you any trouble, Puck and I are a text away. Okay?"

"Thanks Finn, but I'm sure if Karofsky wants to locker-smash me, he isn't going to wait for me to text. That's sweet of you though."

* * *

><p>Blaine almost didn't wake up for his first day at McKinley. After arriving home so late last night, he had stayed up waiting for his dad to burst into his room at any moment. His dad never failed to surprise him. Blaine was so sick of being on edge all the time. He hated never knowing if he was in trouble when he got home.<p>

Last night his dad just eyed him when he walked inside.

Blaine had mumbled a feeble, "sorry, lost track of time" and hauled ass up the stairs. His dad never came. He didn't know why, but he was glad. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he had a big day ahead of him, and he had a lot of work to do if he wanted everything to be right at his new school.

He laid out his boots, skinny blue jeans, and a v-neck hipster tee on his desk. _Excellent. Girls will be eye fucking me all day tomorrow._ After adding some sweet pink shades, he was set. In Blaine's mind, passing as straight meant catching as many girls' attention as possible. If he could be a stud, so to speak, then no one would derive what he really was.

He looked in the mirror. His curls really did make him look like a different person. He had never gotten used to that.

Waking up at 7:30AM immediately erased all sense of serenity he had gathered from his short broken sleep. _Fuck, it's already 7:30? Fuck. Fuck._ He stumbled to his bedside and grabbed the clothing from his desk. While jumping into his jeans, he struggled back and forth with pulling on his v-neck and zipping up his pants. Why was he always so clumsily impatient?

After throwing everything on, and spraying himself with the new cologne he had stolen from a boutique down the road, he was set.

"Wow. I'm impressed. You could almost pass for a man today." His dad spit at him as he came down the stairs.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Gee thanks dad, I'm _so_ glad I could make you fucking proud of me this morning! I'm sincerely touched. Really, to my core."

This was a new game, taunting his father. It was dangerous, but the new Blaine liked that feeling. It was a good replacement for the pain he was so used to feeling.

His father wasn't used to being replied to. "What did you-"

Blaine smirked, and left the house in such time that his father couldn't even finish the sentence he was forming, which Blaine was sure would end in _"just say to me you little faggot!" _ He'd pay for that comment later, but so far this morning wasn't that bad after all. He slipped on his shades, and peddling fast he sped to school – ready for his first day in his next new life.


	3. The Grand Addition to Mckinley High

Kurt, although terrified from Finn's horrible driving, was more than excited to see a cluster of his best friends waiting for him outside of school.

He waved at them!

"Hey Kurt!" cheered Mercedes, a large African American girl with shoulder length black hair. She held her large beaded heart necklace while she waved, and turned to Tina and Artie who were waiting patiently behind her.

"Hey guys! Ready to win Nationals?" Kurt hopped out of the car, as Finn went to drop it off in the senior parking lot.

"Lets cool it with the Glee talk, Kurt, we still need to get through first period." Said Mercedes.

"Senior year," he paused, "Isn't that weird? Feels like yesterday you and I were roaming the great halls of McKinley for the first time."

"Yeah, I remember my first slushy-facial like it was yesterday… oh wait." Giggled Mercedes

They all laughed. It felt strange being able to laugh about things like that now. Kurt hadn't been slushied all summer, and internally he took a moment of silence for all of the ruined outfits he had thrown away the previous year.

It had been exactly one summer since Karofsky had been expelled and reinstated at McKinley. He wondered if this year would be different. Magical even. Kurt had missed his friends.

"Listen, I get you two are seniors, but Artie and I still have a-whole-nother year left." Tina piped in.

"Yeah, I'm happy for you guys, but we should really get to class before anyone has the chance to gang up on us out here."

Artie's light-up wheels were reflected into his glasses as he maneuvered to enter the school. Kurt followed suit.

As they entered Mercedes shot out a hand to grab Kurt's forearm. She pulled him aside excitedly, "Kurt, this year is going to be so great!" She was bursting with enthusiasm; her voice raised an octave at the end of her sentence.

"Mercedes, like you said we haven't even had first period yet." He placed an arm over her shoulder as they walked, smiling bigger than he had in weeks.

"I know, I know, but… you just missed it. I saw my future husband. I swear by it." She had a hopeful glint in her eyes and her fists balled up in front of her waist. Showing teeth she continued, and "Five minutes earlier you could have seen him too! I think he's new." She said it both confidently, and sarcastic. Kurt was thoroughly intrigued.

He raised his eyebrow questioningly. "New meat, at McKinley?"

"Oh Kurt. Just wait. He is so fine. I can't even handle it. Look for him so we can talk about it at lunch!" She nodded.

"And what exactly am I looking for Cedes?" he sarcastically replied. Head tilted down, lips pursed playfully. Kurt really was beautiful.

"You'll know him when you see him, Kurt. Trust Me." Mercedes gave him one last nod before disappearing into her first period class.

_I wonder if he's gay! _Kurt beamed at the thought of it. He checked his schedule and walked towards his favorite class. _And off I go to AP French. _With one deep breath, Kurt reached into his bag, pulled out his notebook and entered class deliberately stopping one among many of his frequent internal monologues.

* * *

><p>Dalton had been a three-hour drive from his new neighborhood. He was sure no one knew about his sexuality here, and that's how he wanted to keep it.<p>

His palms felt sweatier than usual. _Okay, back in the closet Blaine. _He paused and dropped his eyes to the pavement. _This is absolutely fucking ridiculous, but I can do it. _He didn't want to go through this again, but his dad… and the kids here… he didn't know anyone… what if they were like the others before Dalton?

He peddled faster, and reached a small bike rack next to a group of students restlessly standing outside his new school. They were staring at him, so he felt compelled to smile at their expectant faces. He left his earphones in so he wouldn't have to talk to them.

They instantly turned back into their huddle. The bigger girl was giggling to the others. _They hate me._ He shook as he locked up his bike, sucked up what courage he had, and walked into the school.

Why couldn't he be as confident with kids his age as he was with people like Burt? He felt himself getting lost in thought again. _Jesus Blaine its just high school, two more years and you're finally on your own. Go with it. Breathe._ He took a breath. _All right, where's my class?_

After awkwardly sitting through two classes, and a couple of locker shoves, Blaine realized he needed to create pull in McKinley's student body. That way he wouldn't just be the new kid. It would be harder to pick on him that way. Blaine had seen a good-looking guy with a Mohawk earlier, and he seemed pretty cool. No one really messed with him in the hallway. How could he be more like that guy?

In both of his classes everyone just stared at him. He felt so uncomfortable, like they all knew his secrets or something.

Blaine's third class was U.S. History, a subject he particularly didn't care for but he was still good at it. As he opened the door he scanned the classroom quickly, waiting for the weakest face to make eye contact with him. All he had to do was act like that Mohawk guy…. Or maybe even act how David used to. _I can't believe I'm about to resort to his standards._

That was it! No one _ever_ messed with David. If he could be like that, maybe people would lay off. Attitude Blaine. Don't give-a-fuck Blaine. _Hah, this is rich. Come on… there has to be someone in here tha-_

It was then that Blaine met her eyes. She had badly dyed pink hair, and the saddest expression he had ever seen. _Bingo._

He felt the stares burning into him as he crossed the room for the empty seat next to her, but this time he did not feel awkward about it. He felt, sexy. It was compelling. He felt like nothing could touch him. He had finally grasped the concept of who he wanted to be this year.

At his first school he was just Blaine. Regular run of the mill, bow tie wearing Blaine. Gay Blaine. He was the soon to be motherless Blaine. Miserable, beat up, bruised ego Blaine. He had come quite a long way since then. At least he thought he had. He had been so naïve, to think the world would accept him for who he was. It was because of this that he had been subconsciously switching character every year. Month-to-month even.

Dalton proved to be a healing fortress for him. Not only did he get to stay away from his father for months at a time, but also he had also finally made friends! Blaine never really had those before, and the Warblers were everything to him. Wes and Jeff had begun to teach him that being gay was okay, and he was so close to believing them before his dad ripped him out of there. Blaine remembered some of their inside jokes, his past gel addiction among one of them. _Always, with the gel…._ He laughed nervously under his breath.

Pulling his shades up to rest on his curls, he slid into the chair next to the girl very deliberately. He saw her stiffen with, what was that? Anxiety? Resentment?_? Stop second-guessing yourself. _

"Hey." He nodded at her.

"…" Her big eyes shot at him, he felt like he was being deflated. _Courage Blaine. C'mon, you can do this. It's just a girl. You don't even like those._

"Uh, I'm Blaine. I'm new." He extended a hand in her direction, but it wasn't accepted. He quickly retracted it.

"And what do you want, Blaine? A date?" She spoke slowly, her voice telling him she was extremely uninterested. The girl's eyebrows rose, as she waited for a response.

He had to think on his feet. _How do I pick up girls?_ He decided on throwing her a false signal to get her attention.

"Well… no." He made sure to look taken aback by her statement. He was doing this right. She clearly had issues. He knew because panic darted into her eyes. "Actually, I was going to ask if I could borrow a pen? I left my house pretty quick today, and didn't grab one."

She handed him one, not even looking in his direction. Her arm simply hung off of the side of her desk, holding it towards him. This was stupid. _She's almost better at pretending to be someone else than I am._ He just wanted to grab her attention somehow, and he wasn't even sure it was working.

"So, what year are you?"

"…."

He took it from her. Blaine wasn't a very patient person; his attention span was more puppy-like than human. With his inept ability to focus, and growing frustration he went into a mini-tirade, "Listen, I don't get what your problem is, but considering no one else has even so much as looked at you in the past five minutes, I'd say your pretty insignificant in the sociological scheme of things here. So-"

"I'm a senior. The name's Quinn." She smiled. _Well that wasn't hard. _

"Well Quinn, it's nice to meet you. Thanks for the pen." His vocal tone matched that which is used to speak to small children. Blaine knew how to flirt. He was even better at that than academic work. A simple tilt of the head, and a smile that crinkled his whole face was all it usually took to make a stranger swoon.

Quinn broke eye contact and looked straight ahead, biting her lip. Blaine wished he could be attracted to her. She seemed like a lovely girl. If she was a little less… rough, he was sure his dad would approve of her too. She had a gentle face, and angelic features. He wondered how she got her skin so smooth, it couldn't be like that naturally.

"Hello students. My name is Mr. Legge. Welcome to U.S. History! Here is your syllabus, if you look at the bottom there's a contract there that- where are you going?"

Blaine had started packing up his things. Holding out his borrowed pen for Quinn to grab. As soon as she reached to take it, he shoved it in his pocket and turned towards the door. He wanted her to watch. "I'm," he looked up quizzically and gestured with his hands, "_Bored_."

The class produced a subtle hum in the background.

"We have not begun the lesson yet, please sit down" The teacher clearly felt uncomfortable.

Blaine laughed.

"Please have a seat."

He could feel Quinn eye fucking him from behind. She was a bad girl, right? They liked this kind of stuff. He had seen it on TV. Why couldn't he be bad boy Blaine for a day? He removed all expression from his face, and just stared at his teacher.

"Mr. Anderson, please sit down."

He left, Quinn gaping behind him. _Oh my fucking God. I can't believe I just did that. That was kind of cool though, right? I mean. I didn't come off as weird or anything? _He was high on adrenaline. _What if I could do that to my dad?_

That did it. It always fucking did it. Every time. He always had to think of his dad. There was that flash of pain. Followed by the anxiety. Both followed by the need for a cigarette.

He disappeared down the hallway remembering all the things he wasn't good at, and suddenly he realized that he hadn't done a single thing yet to find Mr. Hummel's son.

He didn't even know how he was going to mess with "Kurt" yet. _You're so dumb. Why are you even trying to pull off this cool kid act? You already have so many personas to play. You're gay. You're a pansy. You're pathetic…_ his father's words. _How can you pull down some kid when you can't even keep up with yourself? Does it really matter, getting back at him?_

An hour later he was in trouble. His U.S History teacher had found him smoking outside when class ended, and quickly brought him to see Mr. Figgins, the principal.

"Listen, Blaine. Mr. Anderson, it is important to follow the guidelines given to us from the school. All of that can be found in this handbook. The only thing I can do is to give you a verbal warning, but next time it will not be so pleasant. There will be consequences to your actions. Okay?" Principal Figgins sounded like he was reading the back of a pamphlet.

The speech had been much longer, but Blaine had been consumed by thoughts the entire time. He accepted the booklet from Principal Figgins. He had missed the first half of lunch, he was starving… and the exhaustion from both pretending to be straight and from the previous night didn't help either.

"Yes sir, very sorry, it won't happen again." He half meant it. His new self scared him a little. But, his only option was to be strong. He had to have the courage to act how he was supposed to be.

_Courage._

He was wondering if he was getting the meaning right.


	4. A Legacy

Kurt still hadn't seen the guy Mercedes was talking about. He had been searching the student body all day, face after face after face….

It was almost time for lunch, so Kurt headed to the choir room for a pre-glee club meeting. Mr. Shue, the director, started the meeting by explaining how their lack of teammates was holding them back from nationals.

"New Directions needs new members so we are holding auditions tomorrow!" he said. "I've placed purple pianos all around the school for impromptu performances, in order to inspire new students to try out!" He clapped his hands together, and looked at the students with bated breath.

He was asking for social suicide.

"Mr. Shue, if I may." Kurt said with his left arm raised high in the air.

"Yes Kurt?"

"No offense, but you're asking us to wear a red dress to a bull fight." He put his arm down on top of his tightly crossed legs.

Kurt went on to explain all of the outcomes, but Mr. Shue wouldn't back down. Then Rachel intervened, agreed with Mr. Shue, and everyone else shut his or her mouths of protest.

Sometimes glee club frustrated Kurt so much that he would second-guess being there, but it was filled with such wonderful accepting people that he couldn't stay away. Plus he got to wear his heart on his sleeve through his two favorite things: singing and dance.

* * *

><p>Blaine sat alone at a table for four in the back of the cafeteria. A purple piano was situated to his right, and he had to stop himself whole-heartedly from playing it. Piano was a passion of his, he loved to perform. The two together were his description of heaven. He hadn't seen anyone play this piano yet though. No one probably had, ever. It looked untouched.<p>

_I wonder if they have something like the Warblers here. That'd be cool. The Warblers were like royalty back at Dalton._ He needed to stop comparing everything to Dalton. The only thing he liked better about McKinley so far were the hoards of attractive men, but he wouldn't let himself do anything about that. There's no way he would let himself be subject to the torture he went through in his naivety freshman year.

Blaine figured he had either scared everyone off with his morning antics, or that everyone hated him. Why else would everyone stare at him when he walked into the room? It was freaking him out.

He had scanned the cafeteria looking for Quinn, but he couldn't find her. Maybe she ate her lunch somewhere else? He didn't really care. He knew she'd end up being boring, and emotional. He didn't need to deal with any more baggage.

He felt angry. _I wish I were still at Dalton. I miss Dalton. I miss Wes and Jeff._ But his thoughts were interrupted… by… applause? _Awesome. They did have a Warbler-type group here!_

A rhythmic clapping started at the table in the left corner of the caf, followed by a flash mob of instruments. He hadn't noticed the students who had situated themselves at the piano beside him. He tried to avoid eye contact. Why wasn't anyone as excited as him? Kids were rolling their eyes, investing hate behind their fake smiles, and whispering into one another's earlobes. Glee club here was definitely _not_ cool. He was thoroughly disappointed.

'_See the people walking down the street_

_Fall in line just watching all their feet_

_They don't know where they wanna go…_

_But they're walking in time!_

_They got the beat! They. Got. The. Beat! They got the beat!'_

_The go-gos! Nice. _He tried to mask the excitement leeching from his skin. For a moment he had let the real Blaine slip. He closed his smiling mouth and lowered his raised eyebrows. These kids were climbing on the furniture, kicking food trays, and running around the cafeteria. There was the Mohawk guy! The Asian was there too… and the large girl, and the kid in a wheelchair… Didn't they realize everyone wanted them to stop? Maybe they should've chosen a big Broadway showstopper, or Katy Perry. Katy Perry always worked in times like these.

He scanned the room once more, looking for members, so he knew who to avoid making friends with.

It was then that Blaine saw it. The thing he had been waiting for. His insides melted, like ice dropping into a hot drink. His thoughts snapped back into place. He was awake for the first time since he left Dalton.

Towards the other side of the cafeteria on his right, there was a boy wearing tight fitted pants and a button up vest. He looked good in that vest, no; he looked great in that vest. If Blaine had previously had any feeling of disappointment in his stomach, any bad thoughts, any doubts in his confidence… they were immediately vanquished, and Blaine's vision quickly turned into slow motion.

He wasn't sure how long he had been staring. Blaine did that a lot. _Oh my god. There's a gay kid at McKinley. _He had to be gay. His mouth went dry. _That boy is fucking stunning._ He was nymph-like, even. Blaine had finally found the porcelain face he only saw in his dreams. How could he find out more without drawing attention to his desires?

The stranger started skipping his way, followed by a Latina girl in a cheerleading outfit. If his heart had ever pumped this fast before, he was sure he'd be dead. Blaine pretended to check her out as they stopped next to the piano, finishing the song. Secretly he had been using his peripheral vision to stare at the boy's shimmying figure.

Then came the silence. The only audible noises were the deep breaths coming from the stiff outlines of McKinley's glee club members.

Blaine felt awkward just being next to them. They had just committed social suicide. Did people think he was with them? He _was_ sitting pretty close… and alone… what if people thought he was in the club, but wasn't performing today? Panicking, he did the only thing that came to his mind, unknowing that this action would be his legacy in the halls for the next few months.

He quietly rose from his chair. Some students were watching him curiously, but very discretely. Slowly he approached the boy in the vest, why he chose him over the Latina he didn't know. He seemed more delicate, much lovelier if anything.

Blaine lightly tapped his shoulder with the middle and ring fingers of his right hand. He felt a shock of desire. The fabric seemed to have sent a large burst of heat straight from his fingertips to his lower stomach. The boy spun around quickly, realizing to late that he was maybe five inches from Blaine's face. They could feel each other's breath from the gap which their eyes together.

More silence.

He heard the Latina mumble something under her breath, but the vested boy said nothing.

Blaine smiled, and pulled together the cockiest grin he could muster. The boy froze. He wasn't sure if it was out of nerves, embarrassment, or what; but without breaking eye contact, Blaine lifted his arms and emptied the contents of his lunch onto the boy's beautiful soft face. Shame he had to ruin that outfit. _You're beautiful. Don't take this personally. Please understand. I'm so sorry. _The things he wished to, but could not say lingered in his slightly open mouth.

The cafeteria erupted in cheers! It positively roared with laughter and applause. He was still holding eye contact. He didn't want to stop. _I'm so sorry. _Those eyes. He couldn't stop. It was like he was staring into a birthing star. The vibrant blues and greens sparkled with such intensity and promise, with such sadness. _I need to leave. Stop staring Blaine. Go, Now._ Blaine closed his mouth and hurriedly walked out of the cafeteria, turning down multiple high fives and catching bits of encouraging feedback from passing tables.

Somewhere behind him he heard a familiar voice shout, "FOOD FIGHT!"

What had he just done?

* * *

><p>Kurt, along with his fellow glee club members, swiftly ate his lunch. He checked the cafeteria through its small square windows. The band was all set, he knew where the piano was- and, oh! That had to be him. He was sitting alone.<p>

"Wow Mercedes, you weren't kidding when you said he was gorgeous." Kurt stared. "Everyone is just staring at him, he must feel so awkward." The boy looked lost, like he didn't know where he was. He was clearly re-examining a fond memory. Kurt could tell by the way he gazed into space, simultaneously twirling his fork in his Mac' N' Cheese.

"You're staring at him right now too, Kurt. They all just realize how ridiculously good-looking he is. That's him. My future husband…"

"How do you know he plays for _your_ team, Cedes? He could as well be mine as yours." Kurt teased.

"Honey, are you looking at the same man as I am?"

He had large furrowed triangle eyebrows, and pink sunglasses that were almost buried in the mess of hair on his head. Kurt imagined running his fingers through it. His face was perfectly level, minus the little patches of stubble on his cheeks and chin. His lips were full, perfectly kissable. He looked Italian, very masculine, and his hazel eyes mimicked the reflection of a million golden moons encased in the dark waters of an uncharted abyss.

If only he played for team gay. He'd try finding out when he passed the piano during the last bit of his choreography. _I just wanted to get through one lunch in peace. Just one. _

Kurt thought back to the previous night when his dad had woken him up and given him "the bully talk". He got one every year, but this one was a little more urgent, almost like he knew someone was coming after him. Did his torment never cease? _My life is more awkward than when Harry finds out Sally is going on a date. _His dad had to have been talking about Karofsky, but he wouldn't be trying too much this year considering his last. So as quickly as it had entered his mind, it had exited twice as fast.

"Everyone ready? Places! Remember to smile!" Rachel whispered.

Kurt had done this a million times, so if it wasn't nerves that had him feeling this way, what was it? For most of the performance he couldn't help but watch the reactions of Mercedes' deemed "husband."

Kurt was sure he saw a smile creep onto those lips when they began their flash mob. What had made him change his mind? He looked so serious now.

'_Yeah! They got it!_

_See the kids just getting out of school_

_They can't wait to hang out and be cool_

_Hang around 'til quarter after twelve_

_That's when they fall in love!_

_Kids got the beat. _

_They. Got. The. Beat. _

_They got the beat! Yeah!'_

_Here it comes!_ He skipped towards the purple piano, Santana followed right behind him, and… _he ignored me._ Straight. He was clearly undressing Santana with his eyes. _The gay world has clearly undergone a dramatic loss today… but the show must go on… _Kurt completed his final shimmy, and the crowd went, silent.

He glanced at Santana. She was stiff with fear, as was he. All he could hear were the sounds of his lungs aching to breathe. What did he expect? He knew glee club wasn't cool. Why couldn't students at least acknowledge their hard work though? Kurt felt a light tap on his right shoulder, and out of shock he spun around to see what was happening.

_Oh. My. God. Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod. _Kurt was now less than six inches from the gorgeous face he had been fantasizing about for the past ten-fifteen minutes. _Is he going to kiss me, or something?_

"Aw, totally thought he was straight. I wants me a piece." Mumbled Santana under her breath. Kurt barely heard her because the boy was grinning now, and it wasn't a friendly kind of grin. It was full of fire, passion, and it was terrifying.

Kurt froze, completely out of anticipation. He had no idea what was about to happen. That boy was _so_ hot; there were so many things that could come out of this. Kurt barely noticed the silence suffocating him, had they started whispering? Kurt stared, and the boy stared back… hard. _He is staring back at me, why is he still staring at me?_ _You're so gorge- _Kurt dropped his jaw, still staring wide eyed into the face of someone he had clearly misjudged.

The cafeteria cheered, and Kurt wanted to cry.

_No. Not another Karofsky. This can't be happening._

The perpetrator opened his mouth as if to say something, quickly shut it, and left the cafeteria. _Bastard._

Kurt had never been more humiliated in his whole entire life. He was filled with resentment. He would get him back. He didn't know how, but he would. Kurt wasn't going to be tormented his senior year. He had had enough of that already.

"FOOD FIGHT!"

He moved quickly, grabbing the nearest tray he could find as he fell to the floor. He began shielding his favorite outfit from the heaps of spaghetti and processed cheese flying his way.

"So much for magical." The words had accidentally slipped out of his mouth. They slipped out in perfect time with the silent tears that fell from his eyes.


	5. Bully Whips

Blaine made it three fourths down the cafeteria hallway before a tall blonde woman grabbed him ruthlessly, and brought back to the principal's office.

"I would say it's nice to see you Mr. Anderson, but I understand you are here because of an outburst in the cafeteria." Principal Figgins sounded anxious, concerned. "Thanks to you janitors will be working over time tonight to scrape all of the muck off the walls!" he turned to the woman who had brought Blaine to him and said, "Thank you Sue, Will and I can take it from here." He looked down and fumbled with a calculator, figuring out the overtime cost for his employees.

This time there was another face awaiting him in the tiny polished room.

"Be quick, the tiny Keebler elves can't bake their precious cookies without the oil extracted from William's hair." She snipped as she shut the door behind her.

Blaine glanced back to the stranger and couldn't help but crack up at her comment. She was right on about the hair. It was styled like Blaine used to do it, back in freshman year. There was so much gel; he could almost see his reflection.

Both of the men were watching him. "Oh, sorry. That wasn't funny." _It totally was though. I like that lady._

"Blaine, right?" He didn't wait for Blaine to confirm. "I'm Mr. Shuester, the director of McKinley High's glee club." _No wonder she didn't respect him. "_I understand that you were harassing a student of mine during lunch, am I correct?" _What is this, CSI? _To Blaine, this wasn't intimidating at all.

Adults never fazed Blaine, and he usually took everything they said with a grain of salt. He had long ago come to the conclusion that this was his dad's fault. Mostly all his problems came down to that, but Blaine couldn't take them seriously. Adults were just strict soulless bodies with mouths that sputtered nonsense 24/7.

"I wouldn't say harassed…" he coyly responded.

"Mr. Anderson, I would take kindly to William, because he intervened on your behalf today. If it wasn't for him, you would have been faced with a very serious fine." Mr. Figgins' tone was very stern.

Blaine started to listen. _Here comes the punishment… I wouldn't mind a couple detentions; it would keep me out of the house longer. _He shot a glance at Mr. Shue.

"Blaine, principal Figgins and I have worked out a compromise for your punishment. Instead of paying a fine to cover the damages, you are going to do two things. First, we have set up an appointment for you to visit our counselor Miss Pillsbury so that you can speak about the importance of acceptance; and two, starting today, you are required to join glee club! Our first meeting will be tomorrow." _Oh fuck no._ "It will give you a chance to see what those kids are going through." Blaine's mouth was hanging open in disbelief. "They have gone through so much bullying because of students acting like there will be no consequence to their actions. That boy you dumped your food on? He almost had to leave McKinley last year from everything he went through. Kurt needs to know that you acted out of ignorance, not hate." _Kurt? Kurt. Kurt Hummel? No way._

"Wait, what? Kurt who? That kid in the vest?"

"Kurt Hummel, yes. The one you began the food fight with."

_Sweet mother fucking Jesus. _How ironic. The only other gay kid in the school, whom he had broken, was the one he was planning to break anyways. So why did he feel so horrible about it? The one beautiful, soft boy for whom he had just lost his shit for was Kurt Hummel. _Fuck. _He was dizzy.

"How much is the fine?"

"Blaine, we have already worked everything out. Tomorrow we are holding auditions after school for the club. Be there at 3:30, okay?"

"No, seriously, how much is the fine!" He raised his voice. Blaine was desperate. He couldn't join glee club. Kids thought he was cool. He couldn't lose that. He wouldn't. It had only been a day!

"Don't worry, the kids will warm up to you soon enough. David Karofsky – the student who was giving them trouble last year – has also taken steps to become educated about his actions. He started a program with one of my glee members called the Bully Whips in order to stop bullying here! See, the only thing that can come out of this is good." William placed a friendly hand on Blaine's shoulder, right beneath his neck. It was an awkward half hug situation.

"K-Karofsky? David Karofsky?" Blaine knew that name. He was panicking. "Listen, thanks for all you're doing to cooperate with me. I appreciate it, I really do. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks Mr. Figgings, Mr. Shue" All said proved to be intense rushed versions of speech. He stood up, slipped Will's arm off of him, and left. He didn't even recognize that he had said "Mr." instead of "Principal". His whole body was beginning to shake uncontrollably. That voice from earlier, he knew he recognized it from somewhere. _This seriously can't be happening. How did David end up at McKinley?_ _No fucking way. Seriously, just, no fucking way._

In Blaine's mind there was absolutely no chance that David had reformed his ways. Actually, if he knew David at all (which he did), he was sure that he was laying low until opportunity stuck again. Blaine was having a panic attack. He ran to the bathroom and locked himself in a stall, breathing erratically and sliding to the floor like his life depended on it.

He sat there for a while before he manifested enough strength to finish his day. Sulkily, he got to his feet and crept out of the bathroom. Distracted, he ran face first with complete force into the side of another student.

Blaine hit him with such power that he fell backwards onto the ground. His mind was so cluttered that he had become way to clumsy for his own good. His self loathing didn't last very long when he realized who he had just walked into, and he was so startled that he made his way back to his feet almost immediately.

It was Karofsky. _If karma exists, this is mine._

"Watch where you're going, homo." Karofsky teased.

Blaine attempted to steady his shaking hands, and heart exploding in his chest, he raised his chin giving his fellow student full view of his terrified face.

-But David didn't react. He didn't even make the slightest inclination that he knew who Blaine was. He didn't act surprised at all.

"Oh, dude, sorry. I thought you were someone else. You're the kid from lunch today, right? I saw what you did. It was epic! Wish I could've been the one to dump cheese on that fag's head"

_He doesn't recognize me. _Blaine felt his grip loosen on his backpack strap. "I-yeah-I just… hey, thanks man." It had been two years since they crossed paths, and he hoped he didn't recognize the sound of his voice, although he _had_ done more crying that talking those days. He felt obvious at his attempts at sounding masculine.

"Karofsky. Dave Karofsky, nice to meet you." He held out a hand with a lifted gaze and waited for Blaine to accept his welcome. He looked frightening even when he was being nice.

Blaine did the same, and firmly grasped Karofsky's. "Blaine. Blaine Anderson. I'm new here." It was funny, pathetically funny; that he knew Karofsky wouldn't know his name. David, or "Dave" now, had spent Blaine's entire freshman year making his life hell but not once did he recognize Blaine was a human being. Instead of calling him by name, Karofsky had the whole school calling him "fag boy" before he left. Karofsky had only been one year older than him, but he made it seem like they were worlds apart.

"I was a transfer too. Came here last year for football recruitment. Team still sucks though. What'd they sentence you to? Are you part of the Bully Whips now? I don't even know why I'm still wasting my time with that shit, Santana just thinks it will help us win prom king and queen."

"Actually, no." Should he tell him? It felt kind of great to be on the other side of things. "Worse." Blaine felt like an honorary member of a club. He felt accepted. He had David's full attention now. It was the closure he never got as old Blaine. He got cocky, "They are making me see the counselor here…" he shuffled his feet and kicked the locker door next to him avoiding eye contact. Blaine couldn't tell him about joining glee club. He knew that if Dave found out, regardless of what he had done there would be no redemption.

"I bet Hummel made them do that. He's hot for almost everyone at this school. Probably wants them to train you to be his boyfriend. Way to show that queen what he had coming. It was hilarious!" Blaine studied the twisted grin on Dave's face.

"Uh-Sure. Yeah, I'll… I'll let you know if that lady boy ever lays a finger on me. We can get him together." Did he really just say that? _Really Blaine? Lady boy? Couldn't think of anything less gay than lady boy?_

The students parted ways, and Blaine headed to his last classes of the day. He felt extremely unwell.

He had taken so much in, in the past couple of hours. Thoughts were nested in his brain, and woven so tight that all that remained were knots. This was not how he expected his first day to go. He wanted a cigarette.

His classes went by quickly, but they weren't too bad. Blaine had grown accustomed to the staring by now, especially the "hate stares" he was getting from a few glee club members in his last period Spanish class.

In addition to that being incredibly awkward, the class happened to be taught by Mr. Shue. Was this guy everywhere, or what? At least Kurt wasn't in his class though; he was probably taking a different language. He couldn't imagine facing him ever again.

The guilt burned him inside and out. Blaine had put himself in quite the predicament. He was gay, Kurt was gay, and what if he had just come out to everyone his first day there? They could've gone through it together. When Blaine had gone through the bullying, he had prayed so hard for someone like Kurt. Blaine thought it was amusing that when he didn't need someone Kurt was there. _Too little, to late..._

He reached into his back pocket for the thing he had been craving since lunchtime.

Blaine lit a cigarette as he headed outside to retrieve his bike. This was his favorite part of the day. He needed that release.

"Not cool what you did to my man Kurt today."

Blaine mimicked the turn around Kurt had done earlier, not wasting a second to see who waited behind him.

Blaine was a full foot shorter than him. Mohawk included. "I'm not in the mood for whatever 'witty' insult you have prepared for me. So I'm gonna go… and don't worry, you'll have the chance to berate me with your words tomorrow. Apparently I'm your newest 'gay club' member." Blaine exhaled smoke into the face of the boy standing in front of him.

Blaine hated his life. He hated that he had to pretend to keep himself safe. He was starting to believe this new mantra too. Like, really believe it. Being gay would never be right. Not to anyone, maybe even to him too.

"Mr. Shue put you in glee? Dude, you better quit it with the gay bashing then, because Kurt's my man and he's been through enough. Understand?"

Blaine felt a light shove. Was this one gay too? Blaine frowned, taken aback by this new information. He felt…. Warm. It spread like an electric shock in and out of his chest. Was he? Was Blaine Anderson jealous?

"Yeah whatever, see you tomorrow I guess."

Blaine carefully unlocked his bicycle, climbed on top, and peddled towards his home. He wouldn't let himself arrive there until nightfall, but he wanted to get away from McKinley as fast as possible.

He passed the statue of Venus, and rose-stained glass windows. This time he knew partially, what was in there. He had been way off in his assumptions. Kurt definitely didn't play football. He was just as small as Blaine was, so Kurt must have a brother. That means Kurt was the one who had taken Ballet, _adorable._ _I wonder which one on the team is his brother? Do they look alike? Is he cool with Kurt being the way he is?_

Nightfall was approaching, and he didn't want to be seen near the Hummel household. After last night, he was sure Burt wouldn't tolerate his offensive comments.

He had to go home. A place he barely even felt deserved the title. He didn't feel right referring to it that way.

He closed his eyes as he turned the knob to enter, and was hit with thousands of thoughts all at once. A gasp escaped his lips, "Mom?" That was stupid. He knew she was dead, but it smelled so much like her that he couldn't help but jump to that conclusion. "Uh, dad?" He poked his head around the corner and took in the scene before him.

The house was candles burnt above the brick fireplace, and popery sat on the kitchen table. _What the actual fuck is going on right now?_ At least the smell of his mother was explained.

He thought back to the day he found her, sitting helpless in his dad's favorite chair. _No, not now. Stop. Blaine, seriously stop._

* * *

><p>"<em>Mom?" He had just turned fifteen exactly two hours ago, and was home from school early – it having been a half day. Blaine had suffered through, knowing he had a movie night with his parents to look forward to. But something was wrong. His mother wouldn't look at him. <em>

"_Mom, hey!" he set his things down and walked gingerly towards her. He formed the biggest smile he could muster. "Your favorite and only child is almost a man, lets celebrate! What do you want to watch this year? Singing in the rain? Casablanca? Mom?"_

_He remembered the look in her eyes before she did it. He had never been more scared in his life. "Mom? Mom. What's wrong?" He lost all signs of happiness. Panic was now etched into every line on his face._

"_You're home early, dear." She sounded empty. Cold._

* * *

><p>"BLAINE!"…"I'm sorry he's not usually like this. BLAINE, son- hey, you alright?" Who was his dad talking to?<p>

"What? Oh, God, sorry. What's going- dad? What did I do? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Blaine was crying. He sat on his living room steps, backpack discarded next to the front door. _Blaine, get your shit together. Now is not the time. Focus on something else. Focus on- _Was his dad hugging him? "Um… dad?"

If Blaine thought the clean house was weird, this was even weirder. His dad was sharply dressed, and clean-shaven. The only time his father looked like this was when he was about to leave on month long business trips.

"I didn't know you had a trip coming up, I-"

"No, that's not it Blaine."

_Why is he being so decent? _

"Will you just focus for three seconds so I can explain something to you? Jesus! Stop crying!" His father bit his lip. _There we go._

"I need you to follow me to the kitchen." His eyes were fierce. They were firing him a dangerous warning. "We have, a visitor." His father dug his nails into Blaine's arm, squeezing old bruises and forming new ones. Blaine gritted his teeth, but didn't say a word.

Silently, he followed his dad into the kitchen. Sitting, with arms gently folded, and wielding a warm glowing smile was someone Blaine would never have expected to see today.

Actually, if Blaine had to list a hundred people who could have been seated at his kitchen table right now, this person wouldn't have even crossed his mind as a suitable candidate.

He blinked once, and curled the edges of his lips upward showing expression for no longer than a second. His eyes were still glazed over from memories violently threatening to tear away his vision. Hot tears squeezed themselves back as he made eye contact with the man before him.

A priest. His dad had brought a priest over. Blaine knew if anyone were looking into his household right now they would not label this as normal.

Kurt's house was normal. Kurt's house was safe. He wondered if Kurt was too.


	6. Blinded By The Light

**NOTE: **Triggers.

* * *

><p>It was a quiet dinner. Carole had prepared a delicious meal, one of her finest yet, but Kurt wasn't in the mood to talk tonight. He figured Finn had picked up on his vibe, hence the awkward silence.<p>

"You two are being awfully quiet this evening."

The boys exchanged glances.

"Is everything alright? I could cut the tension with a knife in here." Burt said pointedly.

Kurt sighed. _I guess I'll deflate the giant elephant in the room._ "There's a new kid at school, and he… started a food fight at school today." Kurt didn't look up. Instead he cut his food into tiny pieces while chewing on the inside of his cheek. Clearly he wasn't amused.

"Uh, yeah, he started it on Kurt's head. Totally pulled a Rachel/Jesse scenario right in the cafeteria. It was crazy! There was food everywhere! Everyone was-" Finn trailed off after noticing Kurt's death glare. "…It was a mess. That's all."

"Are you okay, honey?" Carole extended a loving gesture to Kurt.

"Well my favorite vest is ruined…" Kurt had mastered the use of sarcasm to blanket his real emotions. It was easier, and most people couldn't see through it. As long as Kurt appeared well enough to tell jokes, people just accepted it and moved on with their day.

"Kurt this isn't a time for jokes, who is this kid? Do you know his name?" Burt's eyebrows told them that he was doing some serious thinking.

"Actually, I know it." Finn's eyes were bright with excitement. _It was just a food fight Finn. You're acting like you just met the queen of England._ "His name's Blaine. Puck found out and texted me after school. He told me Mr. Shue is making him join glee club tomorrow, but if he starts anything we can take him because he's kind of small… smaller than Kurt actually."

"What!" Kurt and Burt spoke at the same time. Both continuing their sentences and speaking so fast that one could not be deciphered from the other. That is, until Burt stood up and dropped his silverware on the tablecloth.

"Oh-yeah. I think I forgot to tell you that. Sorry Kurt." Finn said quietly under his breath.

"I'll be back in a little bit. I want you all to finish your dinner."

"Burt now isn't the time." Said Carole.

"Carole, I'm not putting up with this anymore! You realize Blaine is the kid who bikes around here at night? He obviously wants something from Kurt! No more of this Karofsky business. I'm going over there to speak with his dad right now."

Kurt's eyes went wide. _He bikes outside my house at night? Creepy. Yet, intriguing. _Kurt couldn't deny that he wanted to speak with Blaine. There was something hidden behind those eyes earlier. Kurt needed to know what it was. It wouldn't hurt to know his history, right? Maybe Blaine used bullying how he used sarcasm? _Right, and Rachel Berry doesn't want solos…_

* * *

><p>Blaine was dumbfounded with his father's choice in guests. He had expected this when he first came out. His parents had pretty much lived "by the book." Jokingly in his head, he would create scenarios where the priest would condemn him, and Blaine would melt like the wicked witch in front of the entire congregation. That had been the reason it took him so long to tell his parents. In the end he decided he would be happier if he were himself. He had been wrong.<p>

"Blaine this is Father Peter."

Blaine gave his dad his best _'really dad? A priest?' _glare. His lips were shut taught, bottom lip trapped in-between his teeth. He just looked from Father Peter, back to his dad, and back to Father Peter again.

"I'm sorry father, Blaine seems to have forgotten his manners this evening. Blaine, I got a call from your principal today. Long story short, I've decided to work on my tendencies, if you can work on… yours. That's why I've asked Father Peter to join us for dinner tonight."

They never ate dinner together.

"That's great dad, but _your_ tendencies are things you _decide_ to do. I can't help it if I was born this way. You're telling me to rework my entire thought process. It's impossible." His father couldn't hit him with a priest there, so Blaine pushed his boundaries as much as he could. _I wonder what the priest will do if I can get him to snap?_

"If it's time appropriate, may I interject here?" Father Peter was adjusting his glasses on his bearded face.

"Your father has told me a little bit about your situation, and I just wanted to tell you that the Catholic Church still accepts you. Believing you are gay or thinking gay thoughts is not a sin, as long as you don't act on it." He said matter-of-factly.

_He would know that. _"Oh, I get it!" The sarcasm dripped from his lips.

"So I can like men, but as long as I don't ever allow myself to be happy, _or_ get married, _or_ fall in love then it's okay? If I live my entire life in misery because of the way I was born, then it's okay with God? Even though he is the one that made me this way. So he created me specifically to suffer? What am I, God's little joke?" Blaine was practically ablaze from the rage he was consumed in. He was being rude, and he didn't care.

"Blaine, I think you are misunderstanding the situation. You were certainly not born as God's joke. You simply, developed a tendency somewhere along the way, and we can work to change that if you'd like. You are positively not alone."

_Yeah, I'm not alone because you're gay too, asshole. _Blaine watched the priest as he spoke at him. His face didn't falter once. Was he being serious? He was being serious.

"You want me to change? I can't. I can't change this, why cant you two just listen to what I'm saying? I can't be someone different. Trust me, I've tried."

"Blaine, I understand from your father that you started putting faith in these thoughts when your mother died?" His blood was boiling. Obviously anything he was going to say would be irrelevant to these horrible strangers in front of him.

"That is _not_ your place." Blaine felt cornered. If his mom were here everything would be different. She wasn't though. All that was left was her smell, and a small photograph Blaine kept tucked in his desk drawer.

His dad had started the abuse one month after the funeral. Blaine had told his parents that he was gay before the school year started, but his father thought it was a phase. He didn't pay complete attention to the situation at hand until he heard Blaine singing in his room one night. He had been jamming to The Lion King on Broadway, full blast. Eyes closed, piano at hand.

Blaine didn't understand why Broadway made 'gay' click in his dad's tiny brain (maybe he did), but his dad flipped out on him. He exploded into the room and broke every single CD Blaine owned, calling him a fag the entire time. Everything was "fag this!" or "faggot that!" He even made Blaine stand before the fireplace as his favorite music melted away into the flame. Music was the only thing he loved. His passion had been silenced.

"It certainly is my place, son. Sometimes grief can cause us to put our faith in detrimental things or practices. By doing so, one tries avoid dealing with the hand they were dealt. Perhaps by loosing your mother you felt as if you could never love a woman like her again. God can change that. He can help you get over those barriers. Getting over a trauma like that is not easy, Blaine. So what do you say? Will you let me help you?"

_I mean, what if he's right? Wes and Jeff had said I was born that way, but- this makes sense too. Maybe seeing her, and all of that blood, and- _what he'd give to not go through this pain anymore. _Fuck it._ Why not just make the man happy? _If I say yes, he'll leave. Then everything might go back to normal for a while. _ "Yeah, sure. I'll work on it, I guess."He shrugged it off like what he said was no big deal, except that it was. It proved to be a huge deal, but Blaine's apathy outweighed anything else at that moment. He had simply stopped caring.

There was a knock at the door.

Blaine's dad was beaming with pride. The priest had offered congratulations and whatnot, and was now going on about how proud he was of Blaine, and this and that…Blaine mentioned Quinn, and his father patted him on the back, before he walked out to see who the visitor was.

Blaine sat there numb. He was shattered. He had no hope. He couldn't even look Father Peter in the eyes. _These people are monsters. Why can't they accept me for who I am? They should be more like Mr. Shue. Mr. Shue doesn't care if Kurt is gay. He even went so far as to defend him._

* * *

><p>It didn't take Burt long to arrive at the Anderson household. He picked it out right away, because of the bike chained to the garage out front. <em>Tranquil Lane.<em> He could tell they were home because the lights were on inside.

Burt felt weird being on the other end of things. Just last night Blaine was watching his house, and now the tables had turned. He hadn't known that Blaine Anderson was the boy who had seen his mother's death. He was kind of notorious in the neighborhood rumor mill. When he and his father had come to his shop, Blaine had seemed like such a promising child. He wondered is he was getting any help, because the Blaine he had seen was so dark. Nothing like the polite boy he had met in the past. He figured he should stop putting this off.

Burt had to be up at six tomorrow. A Chevy with real bad bumper damage was coming in around six thirty, and he wanted everything to be set up before its arrival. _This should be pretty quick._

The large dark curtains of the Anderson household were illuminated through their great hatch windows. The orange glow coming from within, gave a jack o' lantern edge to the structure. Burt found himself smiling, remembering old Halloweens. One where Kurt was a baby, curling his tiny fingers around his toes in a pumpkin costume… and another where his son wore a bedazzled tiara, a sweet compromise for going out as Prince Eric instead of Ariel.

The fabric blocked the inside of the house, so he couldn't tell if they had company, but this conversation needed to happen. The sooner he got this over with, the better. Burt didn't even know what he was going to say. _How do you tell a man that his kid's being a delinquent? _

He knocked.

After a minutes wait, Mr. Anderson answered the door. He looked the same as he did a couple summers ago... tall, strong, average build, serious. _Jeesh, does this guy ever lighten up?_ The same dark circles pressed under his eyes as the ones he remembered seeing at the shop so long ago.

"How can I help you Mr. Hummel?"

Burt stood a little taller. The fact that he wasn't addressed as 'Burt' heightened his senses a little. Had he always been so rigid? Burt couldn't remember. Crossing his arms he asked, "Do you have a moment? I need to speak to you about your son, Blaine." Burt waited to be led inside.

But Mr. Anderson shifted his weight and came out there instead, closing the door behind him.

"We have a guest over right now, how can I help you?"

"Oh…."

"If this is about the incident he had at school, then I assure you he is working it out as we speak." Carole would have left at this point, but he wanted to make sure everything was accounted for.

"That's great. Actually, it is about that. He didn't just start a riot. He specifically cornered my son. Now listen, this may be a hard topic to approach your son with, but I wanted to request that you speak to Blaine about homophobia." Burt wondered if he had accidentally said something comical. "This is serious. Kurt's a strong boy, but I don't want him to have to worry about bullying his senior year. I'm not sure how much more he can take at this point."

Mr. Anderson was smiling. "Blaine hasn't been well since his mother passed. I sincerely apologize for anything he may have done to cause you and your son discomfort."

The door opened slightly, and a man appeared behind Mr. Anderson. "I think it's best I left, Blaine seems to understand his condition, I'll be in touch tomorrow."

"Thank you father." Mr. Anderson didn't introduce him to Burt.

_What condition? _Was that a priest? That explains why they had only come to the shop on Sundays. Burt had so many questions to ask, but he knew it was impolite to impose. Father Peter stepped out breathing in the night air like he had just gone through something exasperatingly stressful. This left the door cracked, so Burt couldn't help but look inside.

He saw Blaine. _What the?_ Blaine was staring blankly at the wall, biting his lip and looking miserable.

"Is he okay?" Mr. Anderson promptly shut the door.

"Blaine is fine. Thank you for stopping by, I'll speak to him about your son as soon as I can. What was his name again?"

"…Kurt." Burt was feeling guilty. Mr. Anderson was an intimidating man, he couldn't imagine living with him. He wanted Blaine to be scolded, but he had looked so miserable already, slumped in the kitchen chair like that.

"And your son is, if you don't mind me asking, a homosexual?"

"Yeah, he is. That a problem?"

"Not at all Mr. Hummel. Not at all! Kurt, you said?"

"Yes. Kurt."

"I wish you well, goodnight."

He stepped back inside, closing the door on Burt's face.

* * *

><p>Blaine put himself back into sleep mode. Father Peter had left ten minutes ago, but Blaine hadn't moved an inch. His dad eventually came back into the kitchen, and set his coffee mug on the table –gently- as if trying not to wake a sleeping baby.<p>

"Listen, dad." Blaine was about to initiate the first serious conversation he would ever have with his father.

_SMACK._ "What the fuck! You just said-" Blaine cupped his cheek with his right hand.

"I know what I just said you ungrateful faggot! I told you I would work on my _drinking_, remember?" He most definitely did not say drinking. "Who is Kurt? –And if I get one more gay comment out of you, then you deserve the consequences. Who is Kurt?"

"He isn't anyone important, dad." That was clearly false information. Blaine swooned at the thought of his touch. "Why?"

"Hmph. I'm thinking that these fists are probably going to need a longer time than my liver to readjust." Mr. Anderson openly laughed. "I _guess_ I'll work on it though." He was mocking his son.

The words sprang out before Blaine could catch them. "You're evil."

"Well Blaine, remember that as a warning then. If you don't work on your girly personality, expect more of this." Mr. Anderson grabbed Blaine by his throat and dragged him off the chair.

"Dad, stop! Stop! I'm sorry! He's no one! I'll work on it. I swear it! Please! That comment was out of line." He was so tiny in comparison. Both of his wrists were grabbing desperately at his fathers grip.

"I am not your father until you like women. Do you understand me? I don't think you meant what you promised kid. You know what I think? I think you're fucking Burt Hummel's fag son." He threw him against the brick fireplace, and held him there with his left hand as he punched the boy's stomach rhythmically with his right. Blaine's shirt had ridden up and was choking him. The physical pain was excruciating. The mental pain was almost worse. He felt the bricks cutting into his skin.

"No! Never! I wouldn't!" Mr. Anderson's grip tightened on Blaine's neck.

Will you stop kissing boys?" he yelled.

"Yes, dad! Plea-"

"Will you stop thinking like a disgusting faggot!" He punched again.

Blaine was in so much pain he couldn't feel his body. "Ungh, yes I swear!"

He punched again. "Tell me what you're going to change, Blaine." His father was enjoying this.

"I don't kn- I don't like them, okay! It was a phase. It was just a phase. I'm going to work on it! I'll never be gay again. Please don't hit me. Please, dad." He went blind with shock. _I have no one. _He tried to squeeze out another "please" but broke down sobbing into the palms of his hands instead.

There was a long pause. Blaine had done a good job convincing his father that he would try. Blaine was doing a good job convincing himself that he was going to try too. If he had any chance at stopping his father's fists, he would do anything. _Anything._

He remembered the beginning of this summer, when he had stood up to his dad… _'Am I still hot for men?' _echoed in his thoughts. It was no use. Mr. Anderson would never change. So Blaine had to.

"Good."

His father let go, and Blaine fell against the brick, hitting the back of his head in the short moment it took for him to lean back. _I give up._

Soon enough, he was in bed. Under his glow-in-the-dark stars stuck diligently on the ceiling. Weeping loudly into his pillow.


	7. Welcome to the New Directions!

It was Tuesday, Kurt's favorite day of the week. Except, at the moment he couldn't decipher his feelings. He wasn't exactly thrilled for his first official meeting of the year. New Directions was expecting a new member today.

So many unsettled emotions were plaguing his mind. He was angry, but also nervous. Then he would be excited, and that would switch to anxious. All of this was because of Blaine. Last night, all he could think about were that boys intentions. Even his outfit was off today.

By the time seventh period was over, Kurt had asked the opinion of almost everyone in Glee about the matter at hand. Mercedes had apologized so many times he thought she was going to go mute. Finn just shrugged and told him that Blaine wouldn't get away with much while Mr. Shue was there. Kurt had to gently remind Finn about the time they were all drunk at rehearsal… _and_ the time they were all taking more vitamin D than necessary… _and _that it was given to them by his then-wife. Mr. Shue was oblivious.

Kurt had a plan though. There was no way he would stand aside and let Blaine Anderson walk all over him. He was going to confront him. Except with this confrontation he was going to do it in a populated area, to avoid unexpected outcomes.

Kurt had been waiting for fifteen minutes. Every glee club member had shown up so far. Even Quinn had reappeared, and she was speaking with Mr. Shue at this very moment. Apparently she was apologizing for abandoning them this summer, and yesterday at their cafeteria flash mob. Had that been yesterday? It felt like months had passed between then and now.

He concluded that Blaine was a no show, until he spotted him approaching the choir room from the opposite end of the hallway. _Speak of the devil. Literally._ He snorted to himself. _Thank god no one was here to witness that._

Kurt watched Blaine as he walked down the corridor. It was uncomfortable because at this point they were the only two in the hallway. Boy did Blaine look horrible. He was walking very slowly, and his eyes were averted to the ground. _Has he been crying?_ Blaine's puffy eyes were either that way from exhaustion, or tears, maybe even both. Maybe Kurt was being dramatic.

He was walking straight at Kurt too. _Well someone is bold. Oh, I'm standing in front of the door. Maybe this isn't a good time. No, say something Kurt. You Matter. Remember what your dad said._

"Blaine." Kurt stiffened and adjusted the strap of his bag to fit his shoulder more comfortably. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

Blaine rolled his eyes at Kurt. "What do you want?"

Kurt wanted to yell at him, to ask him why he was outside their house so often, to hit him, to ki- _Kurt he dumped Mac' n' cheese on your face, and you are thinking of kissing him? Classy._ He rolled his eyes back at Blaine.

These thoughts troubled Kurt a Karofsky had looked like Blaine, would things have panned out differently? There _was_ the fact that Blaine hadn't threatened to kill him though, _or_ shoved him up against a locker and put his tongue down Kurt's throat against his will. Blaine might end up being like that all the same, so Kurt had to be careful. That's why he had to get to know him before he made a final decision of character.

_Kurt_, _he isn't even gay, why are you getting so involved in this? You're treating this like a game, and love isn't one. Love is beautiful, and kind. Love is Patti LuPone and Matthew Johnston. _He pushed those thoughts aside, hungrily giving in to the idea of Blaine being his new guilty pleasure. He was still gorgeous when he looked horrible, and despite the fact that he had obviously been raised with no manners Kurt couldn't help but take interest in him. Blaine was magnetic. No matter how mad Kurt felt; he still blushed at the thought of Blaine wanting him. Kurt would never admit that to anyone, not even to himself. Plus, that would never happen. So why waste time on it? _Maybe I'll find love in New York. That's gay capital. How many more months of this? _Kurt realized he had gone off into one of his thought monologues again, but the boy in front of him waited patiently, just as lost in thought as Kurt had been.

"What do I want? I want to know why you're treating me like crap! I don't even know you. What's your problem?"

Kurt prepared himself for the retort. His stance was rigid, like a bird fighting for the last bit of bread on the ground.

"…I'm sorry." Blaine stared straight into Kurt's eyes. He had such a powerful glow about him. _I wonder if he's real._ _He's way to perfect to be real._

There it was. The same look Kurt had seen the previous day. That glimmer behind his eyes. That hidden meaning- had it meant '_I'm sorry_'? He was not expecting that.

Blaine broke eye contact and walked into the room, leaving Kurt in the hall to think about what just happened. _He's sorry? That's what he was trying to say in the cafeteria? How can you be sorry and act like that at the same time? _Blaine's appeal was proving to be a worthy quest in Kurt's mind. He wanted to find out all his secrets. Just because he could, and maybe it would pass the time until he found a boy in New York.

* * *

><p>Blaine was surprised he could walk from all the pain he was in. He had spent an hour in front of the mirror this morning practicing faces so he could mask the excruciating throbs consuming his entire body. It felt like he had been attacked by thousands of jellyfish, and their stingers were still poisoning him. Pressing into his skin.<p>

He had justified auditioning for Glee by deciding to actively flirt with the girls in the club. He figured they probably didn't get much attention anyways, and he hadn't seen Quinn in class today so he was starting to deem that a lost cause.

And what was he supposed to say to Kurt if he saw him? Was he supposed to apologize? If he was rude, Kurt's boyfriend might threaten him again. _A gay Karofsky and a straight Karofsky in one school. What are the odds? How does that even work?_

Maybe he could get to know Kurt. That he was grateful for. In-fact, that was the only thing he was looking forward to right now. He had gotten his revenge, kind of… and would it really cause damage to see if Kurt was interesting? He was terrified of confronting him though. What he had done was pretty dreadful.

Blaine scolded himself, forcing his mind to accept that he would never go for it; being in glee club was bad enough for his social reputation. Plus if his dad ever found out that he was talking to Kurt, he could expect last night's episode to be repeated.

He shouldn't get to know Kurt then. That would just lead to trouble. Blaine slid his hand under his shirt, skimming his stomach. He decided to check up on his bruising in the boys' bathroom.

As soon as he entered he locked the doors without delay, making sure no one else was in there with him. He lifted his shirt, exposing the ungodly surface that was once a firm unkempt plateau. _My God. This is way bad. This is probably the worst that bastard has ever done._ The bruise covered most of his stomach. It started five inches above the belly button and curved to the left a bit. In some places he was more purple than others. Little spots of black, where knuckles had dug into him, were scattered here and there like bullet holes piercing through his chest. It looked like a meat tenderizer had hit him. He felt that way too. _Pathetic. You couldn't even pull him off of you. You're so weak._ Blaine spat in the sink, and decided to carry on to his first glee club meeting, where humiliation awaited him. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe that would turn his brain off for a while.

Blaine made his way to McKinley's choir room, aka his social death sentence, and he was not happy. Kurt was waiting outside the door. _Maybe if I don't make eye contact he will ignore me. Please ignore me. Please ignore m-_

"Blaine. May I speak with you for a moment?"

_He's so polite._ _Why would he be polite? I humiliated him. I ruined him. Did he not get the memo that I want absolutely nothing to do with him? _ Blaine hated him. Kurt was a symbol of everything he wanted but couldn't have. It was torture. Blaine had enough of that at home; he didn't need it at school too. "What do you want?"

Blaine wasn't really listening; he was to busy being immersed in both anger and guilt. How could he put Kurt down again? One time was enough. _Maybe instead of putting him down, I can ignore him? Sometimes silence is stronger than words, isn't it?_ _I could tell him he sounds like a chick. Vulnerable. I like that though…_ _Kurt is the reason you're here Blaine. You would have been top of the McKinley food chain today if it wasn't for him._

He went with an, "I'm sorry."

Yeah, he said it. No one was around to hear it, so technically it didn't count towards his McKinley pull. That made it acceptable for Blaine to say, and he meant it too. Especially after the things he had just thought.

As Blaine made his way into the room the bell rang, signaling the start of their first meeting. He paused in front of the semi-circled rows of chairs. He didn't know where to sit. He saw Quinn. _No shit. Quinn is in glee club?_ Their eyes met, she had to be thinking the same thing of Blaine. He chose the seat next to her. They were alone in the last row. He was all too aware of this, but did it really matter? It's not like he wanted these people as friends anyway.

"As many of you may have noticed, we have a new member with us today. Blaine Anderson, everyone; Everyone Blaine." Mr. Shue gestured from left to right, copying the motion of brining two things together as one. Blaine could hear the displeasure raking in the ringing silence.

"Right. Well, I know I didn't give you much preparation Blaine, but would you mind singing us something so we can get a feel for your vocal range?"

All eyes were on him. _Fuck me. Seriously? _Blaine had expected this, but not so soon. He scrambled to pick a song that he knew would blow them away. He panicked. Thoughts were just snapping back to his father, and his bruises. All he could think about was his dad. He could still feel the large hands hammering into his abdomen, and he remembered his dad's wicked grin. The same one he used when he burned Blaine's music. How he stood, amused, as he watched his son's CDs melt in the fireplace.

"Um. Sure. Can I use the piano?"

"Of course. Guys, want to show some encouragement for our new member?"

Nothing. He deserved that.

Blaine awkwardly made his way to the piano, making sure to avoid their faces. He had to steady his visibly shaking hands so they wouldn't think he was lame. Blaine was only nervous because this was something he cared about. He hadn't been able to sing in months, and he couldn't wait to feel the notes slip through his vocal cords. _Please like me._ _I said I was sorry._

He sat down behind the piano; letting himself remember the day his father had silenced his one love. He wouldn't cry. Not here. Even if he wanted to, he was sure he couldn't produce any more tears. Last night had been miserable.

He cleared his throat. "This song is really important to me." The quiet was frightening to him. He wasn't used to so many people watching his every move, and waiting on his next words. Especially when he didn't have his next words planned.

He continued. "I've been thinking about my mom a lot lately, and this is all I could think of to play right now. She took me to see this show, so…" He shook his head. _Jesus Blaine, could you be any sappier? These people don't care about things like that. Way to bring down the house._ "I hope you like this or something. I haven't played in a while…"

He shrugged, and gave up on his speech. His heart was thumping so hard he was almost certain they could hear it.

"Thank you Blaine. Lets hear it!" Was Mr. Shue always so optimistic about everything?

Blaine closed his eyes. He let go, tuned everyone out, and his fingers gently stroked the appropriate keys. He played soft, slow; he had to set the mood before he could begin. Blaine had forgotten how well he could play. His fingers found the keys with such ease it was almost as if they were meant for one another. He hummed for a bit, and began to sing the sweetest notes he could produce,

'_Where has the starlight gone?_

_Dark, is the day._

_How can I find, my way home?'_

He wouldn't let himself look up. Not now. He had to know they were enjoying it first. _Sing slowly. Calm down._ He opened his mouth wider, and sang with wholesome emotion.

'_Home is an empty dream._

_Lost, to the night._

_Father, I feel so alone,'_

He sounded good. Blaine wished he had changed the _'father' _to _'mother'_. He worried that his song choice had been off. Was this material to heavy for an audition? He let himself go once more. Free within the notes, Blaine sang louder.

'_You promised you'd be there_

_Whenever I needed you_

_Whenever I call your name_

_You're not anywhere_

_I'm trying to hold on _

_Just waiting to hear your voice_

_One word, just a word will do_

_To end this nightmare'_

He was pounding into the keys. Blaine's home life _was_ a nightmare. If he had never come out, if he had never said he was gay… maybe his mom would still be alive. It was his fault things fell apart. He knew it was. His father had told him so.

He carried on, unhurriedly, keeping true to the fashion of the song. He was almost done. He could leave after he auditioned right? Blaine didn't want to sit through the stillness anymore.

He glanced up. Everyone was watching him. And Kurt? Kurt's hand was over his mouth. Kurt looked sad. Blaine didn't like that. _Jesus, look down. Look down._

* * *

><p>Blaine was terrified. Kurt knew because he saw Blaine trying to hinder his trembling hands. Blaine was in enemy territory now, how was he going to handle this?<p>

Mr. Shue asked him to perform, and Kurt desperately wanted to know what he would pick. Musical taste defines a person to their very core. Did other glee clubbers notice how disheveled Blaine looked? Everyone was being so quiet. He knew they were being silent for his sake, so he did the same. His friends were just trying to support him.

Blaine began singing. _Wow. _Kurt's mouth wasn't the only one hanging open right now. He couldn't believe the voice coming from that tiny frame. He had no idea Blaine's lungs could hold that much air. He had no idea Blaine could even sing! Kurt never would have guessed a strong voice like that could come from someone so obviously broken. _He's definitely Tony worthy._ _One day, Blaine could be on Broadway. We could be on Broadway together. Kurt. Blaine. Is. Straight. Stop it!_

'_When will the dawning break?_

_Oh, endless night!_

_Sleepless I dream of the day,'_

Not only could Blaine sing, but also Blaine could play the piano. He played like a goddess. His fingers quickly moved from key to key. Blaine didn't even have to look at what he was playing. He just knew somehow. Kurt wished he could do that.

When Kurt found a moment to pull his eyes off of Blaine, he noticed that everyone sitting around him was glued to the curly mess in the middle of the room. _We must all be on the same wavelength right now._

'_When you were by my side,_

_Guiding my path._

_Father, I can't find the way.'_

His eyes were still closed. Kurt went back to staring at Blaine. He didn't care if he was being obvious in his attempts to inspect Blaine's entire body and- what was that?

Right near the scoop of his collar, there was something purple. A bruise? A hickey? Was he hooking up with someone? _Oh shit._ Blaine was looking at him. Kurt looked away.

'_You promised you'd be there!_

_Whenever I need you!_

_Whenever I call your name!_

_You're not anywhere._

_I'm trying to hold on!_

_Just waiting to hear your voice!_

_One word, just a word will do._

_To end this nightmare.'_

Blaine looked so happy while he was performing. Like a little kid discovering a new toy. _His mother must be proud of him._ Had Blaine ever sung this to her before? Kurt could picture Blaine, sitting in his room, singing to his reflection and smiling like an idiot. Kurt could picture Blaine, sitting in Kurt's room, singing to _him_ and smiling like an idiot too. _Mph. I wish I could just hold him. _Kurt shifted in his seat.

* * *

><p>Blaine looked just as shocked as Quinn had been upon his arrival. She couldn't help but get excited about it. After apologizing to Mr. Shue for her glee abandonment, she felt so out of place. She couldn't even decide where to sit today. It was way to awkward for her taste. So when she saw Blaine, she felt okay again because he was nervous too.<p>

The first time she saw him, she knew they would end up with one another. It was just a matter of time. She was sexy. Blaine was sexy. Mysterious. He was nothing like Puck. She was misguided when she started liking _him_. She mistook his vulnerability for a good quality, and the skanks had helped point that out. Blaine was actually a badass, not all talk.

He frightened Quinn a little, and it was a huge turn on. It was also a plus that he wanted her too, badly enough to cause a scene in U.S. History at least. He had really mistreated Kurt though. Quinn had seen what he did to him in the cafeteria. That whole room was basically walled in with windows.

Her and the skanks' had a front row ticket to the humiliation show from the bleachers. Quinn definitely didn't have anything against Kurt; they were just never close to one another. The things she knew about him were based solely off of what she had observed in glee club, and what she had heard from Mercedes when she was staying at her house. What she gathered from all of that information was that Kurt was a bit of a diva, and went through a lot of bullying last year. He didn't deserve the humiliation it's just…

The real reason she liked Blaine was because he was the person she wanted so badly to be. He didn't care about anything. He was a fortress of smoldering sex curls. Exactly the image she was going for. Blaine was…. Cool. So what on Earth was he doing here?

She knew all her assumptions were true. She was good at guessing people's intentions, but she couldn't just let him have her. She had to make him want her first. Really want her. _It's all about the teasing and not about the pleasing. How times, have changed._

Blaine was so confident. She watched as he headed straight to the piano_. _He was so carefree. His curls were matted down, probably from sleeping on them, and he looked tired. _Cute. _When he began singing his audition song, she turned pink. It was stunning.

He was such a confusing person. Rebel one moment, soft Disney prince the next. Quinn wanted him all to herself. Maybe she would invite him to Rachel's Halloween party this year? That is if her dad's went out of town again.

Quinn knew she wasn't ready for a relationship after all she had been through, but Blaine seemed like a way to forget that. This was her test run. Maybe at Rachel's party she would give him what he wanted. Until that time came though, she was going to have a lot of fun leading him on… two whole months to be exact. She couldn't wait.

* * *

><p>Blaine had arrived at his favorite part of the song. He lowered his voice, carefully singing the scripted words of rescue.<p>

_I know that the night must end_

_And that the sun will rise_

_And that the sun will rise_

_I know that the clouds must clear_

_And that the sun will shine_

_And that the sun will shine_

He repeated the previous verses once more, adding emphasis on _'rise' and 'shine'. _This part had to be perfect. He had steadily built up to this point from his first note. He needed that energy to spark the ending reprise. His voice gained momentum. He sang with passion. He had missed this. He loved this.

_I know!_

_Yes, I know._

_The sun will rise!_

_Yes, I know!_

_I know. _

_The clouds must clear!_

_I know that the night must end!_

_I know that the sun will rise!_

_And I'll hear your voice deep inside!_

Nothing could bring him down right now. Music was beautiful. This is what he wanted in life. If life was going to deny him happiness in every other way, he still had music. Maybe beauty _had_ already found him? It was just in form of song.

_I know that the night must end,_

_And that the clouds must clear,_

_Oh, the sun!_

_The sun will rise!_

_The sun!_

_The sun, will rise!'_

He was done. Blaine prepared himself to listen, once more, to stale air. He powdered out the last notes of the song, and looked up from his invisible fortress of sound. _Well?_

"That's it." He was monotone.

He could tell they wanted to say something, but they all looked around instead. Kurt was the first to stand up, Quinn the second. Kurt was clapping, and grinning like a loon. _Thank God. Thank you Kurt. Thank you so much. _Blaine had momentarily forgotten how much he disliked him. The others followed suit, but he only had eyes for Kurt. He mentally fought himself to look elsewhere, but that was all he really needed to see. Blaine was part of glee club now.

How could these people accept him after what he had done? He wasn't worthy of praise. He didn't deserve acceptance. He wasn't even being himself. He was a lie, a big inadequate lie. His thoughts immediately switched to favor detriment. _They only like you because of your voice, Blaine. Don't forget how they were looking at you earlier._ But he couldn't remember the last time people had smiled at him like this. _Don't forget how they are looking at you now, either._ _Not even at Dalton were they this enthused about your presence. _What had he gotten himself into?

Mr. Shue stood up, wiping away tears from his cheeks. "Welcome to the New Directions!"

* * *

><p>Song: Endless Night - The Lion King on Broadway<p>

**AUTHORS NOTE:** Some notes about Quinn's character: I'm excluding the Quinn wanting her baby storyline. Thought you should know that right away. Quinn only states that she feels bad for Kurt because she knows she _should_ feel bad, but she really doesn't have too much attachment to him. Quinn is my most flexible character, so she's probably not going to turn out how she did on the show. Think of her as half OC/half glee. Thanks for reading!


	8. His Lie

**NOTE: **Not to exciting of a chapter, but it's leading up to something. I promise :] Also, thanks to those who have reviewed!

* * *

><p>The first time he saw Kurt post audition was at lunch the next day. Blaine couldn't find Quinn, so he made his way to the lone table of four in the back of the cafeteria. He didn't even know why he bought lunch today. His stomach hurt so bad he wouldn't dare to eat. He was blind sighted by Rachel Berry.<p>

"Hey Blaine! Sit with us?" It wasn't so much a question as it was a command. She grabbed his arm eagerly and led him to the 'glee' table before he could react. She practically pushed him into a seat, which was situated directly next to Kurt's boyfriend. _Of all places, she chooses to sit me next to him?_ _Great._

"…There. Hey Rachel! …Blaine."

His heart skipped because Kurt had just acknowledged his presence.

Why couldn't Blaine have him? It was so unjust. Kurt was so… he was… everything. Kurt was everything. Yesterday, when Blaine was performing, all he could think about was how alive he felt when Kurt was near. He didn't even know Kurt, and he had already changed him.

Blaine was gay. Maybe he could keep it from his father and friends, but there was no way he could keep it from himself. He felt crazy enough as it was, and to add another lie to his list was out of the question. At this rate, Blaine felt like he wasn't going to be able to make it through the whole year intact. He was tired of constantly being ashamed of himself.

Blaine began to think of all the qualities that the Mohawk kid had that he didn't. He was tall. Blaine was short. Did Kurt like tall men? Blaine liked taller guys too. Kurt was tall. Maybe it was the hair, or maybe the muscles? Blaine had none of that. He realized he was staring.

"Blaine." All he could think of was his name. He was so oblivious. _What am I, Tarzan?_

"Yeah, I know who you are." He looked at Kurt, and back to Blaine, "Remember that warning I gave you?" The boy tilted his head and opened his eyes wide to intimidate him, but Blaine just stared back apathetically.

"I do indeed." He sat there silent for a second before protesting, "Listen, I think I'm actually going to sit over there." It was the submissive route, but Blaine couldn't take much today. He felt like he was going to cry already. His hands were still pried around the small red tray placed uselessly on the table.

"Blaine, you're sorry for what you did right? Puck doesn't mean to scare you, he's just sad for Kurt."

Kurt was silent. Everyone was silent. They were all looking at him again. Those looks they were giving him were sympathy looks. Hungry looks.

Blaine reverted back to deflective thinking.

He didn't need them, or anyone for that matter. No one understood. He had clearly chosen the wrong audition song. Sure, these guys liked the _idea_ of him, but once they knew… once they found out how fucked up he was, no one would want him anymore. His own dad didn't want him. His mother _killed_ herself because of him. Blaine's stomach reacted to his thoughts, and he unconsciously grabbed at it, wincing at the surprising speed in which he clamped his hand down.

_I'm boring, useless…weak. Just hate me. _

_Please, just fucking hate me, and leave me alone._

* * *

><p><em> Oh god, what is Rachel doing<em>? For an atheist he sure threw that name around a lot. Kurt urgently took to Mercedes and ran his fingers through his hair, adjusting his shirt to tighten around his chest.

"Quick, Mercedes, how's my hair?"

"Psh, flawless as ever. Still trying to cross that boy over to the other si-?"

"Shh, they're right th- Hey Rachel! … Blaine."

It was funny, really. Watching Rachel push Blaine around. He had no idea what was going on, and the shock on his face -as result of her shoving him into a chair next to Puck- was the cherry on top. If hilarity didn't ensue, then Kurt Hummel would gladly give his favorite boots away.

Rachel placing Blaine next to Puck was genius. He knew it wasn't intentional, but it had worked out all the same. After watching Blaine with Quinn yesterday he figured she was the one who had placed those marks on his neck.

Puck was obviously on edge about it, because he was giving Blaine the most intense look ever... but Blaine served him one right back.

And there had been a warning? That explained the intensity of the situation… but was it about him (Kurt) or Quinn? Maybe both? Kurt was embarrassed. He liked when glee members stood up for him, but he could take care of himself too. Kurt wasn't afraid of Blaine.

He prided himself on being able to define a person's true nature, and Kurt could tell there was a lot more to Blaine Anderson than meets the eye. He was scruffy, sure, but he always looked lost when he was alone, and he didn't look lost right now… he looked gentle and sad.

"Blaine, you're sorry for what you did right? Puck doesn't mean to scare you, he's just sad for Kurt." Brittany always spoke at inappropriate times.

Kurt knew something big was about to come at them from the way Blaine tightened his throat before he spoke. He had also clutched his stomach. That was weird. Kurt remained silent.

* * *

><p>Blaine shot a fierce look to his right, where the skinny blonde in her cheerleading uniform was patiently awaiting his answer. Without faltering he spoke, "If you all think you know me from a fictional song I performed, your wrong." He made sure to make eye contact with every single one of them as he stood, tray in hand, "No. I'm not sorry for what I did. You're all crazy to believe that I actually want to do this…. Mr. Shue and I have a deal. I'm not here to be your friend. As soon as I can get out, I'm out." He made sure he was looking at Rachel when he said that last part. "Where's Quinn anyway? I thought she was part of glee, or whatever."<p>

"I'm usually at the bleachers, but today I thought I'd sit with my friends."

He gasped audibly. Had she heard him? _Fuck it._ He twisted around very slowly. She was blonde now_. _"Pink not working out for you Blondie? Shame, I thought it was kind of hot. What's up?"

Kurt and Rachel exchanged glances. As did other members of glee.

She ignored his comment about her hair. "You should sit with us, they're really not to bad. I promise." Quinn was giving him a lazy smile, followed up with _'fuck me'_ eyes. It was frightening. How was he supposed to react? What would he do to Kurt?

Blaine slid his hand around her waist, very visibly, and directed her towards his now empty seat. "Yeah. Maybe just for today, and today only. I wouldn't want to get anyone's hopes up." He winked at Kurt. _Why did you do that? Blaine you're a goddamn idiot._ Kurt blushed furiously_._

* * *

><p>Blaine was changing the subject. Something Kurt had mastered the art of long ago. He obviously didn't mean a word of what he just said. To bad he didn't realize Quinn was right behind him either. Kurt looked at Rachel, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. There was literally no way a QuinnBlaine combination would benefit the club. He had to stop it somehow.

Kurt had a slight advantage because he already knew Quinn's weak spots…Blaine, not so much. He was still playing the mystery card. Plus, in regards to Quinn, Blaine had no idea how to handle her. Even Blaine's hand around her waist looked wrong.

That gesture had confirmed Kurt's assumptions. Blaine was with Quinn. Did he know anything about Puck and Quinn's situation? Was that why he was being so inept? Puck didn't move a muscle in his body; he just let Blaine sit right back next to him. Quinn was on his left, and Puck was on his right. Blaine sure had a lot of nerve.

* * *

><p>He spent the remainder of his time there thinking about that rush of color. He thought it was really charming that Kurt had gotten discomfited so easily. Maybe he could get him to do it again. Puck wouldn't put up with that for too long, or anyone else in glee for that matter. Besides, Kurt didn't deserve someone like Blaine. He was to perfect.<p>

The glee kids weren't that bad, Quinn was right. Blaine learned their names rather quickly, and took a strong liking to Santana. She was full of fire. He loved that because he considered himself to be full of fire too. Blaine was being blatant in his disregard for Quinn's verbal prods, and it was getting a strong reaction out of her. The more he listened to Santana, the more Quinn groped him.

He wished she would stop. It was embarrassing, and highly uncomfortable.

No one really spoke to Blaine while he was sitting there anyways. He mostly just listened to what everyone else was speaking about. He couldn't give himself away, not now. No matter how bad he wanted to bring up Vogue with Kurt or talk about how pizza originated in New York with the guys, he wouldn't. Instead he sat wedged between Quinn and Puck looking absolutely miserable. They were the last two people on Earth he wanted to be near. It was so awkward.

* * *

><p>Kurt caught Blaine's eye. He winked. <em>What?<em> He felt flushed.A deep shade of red crept from his neck to his cheeks. _Wear it with pride Kurt. _He looked around to see who had caught that. Specifically Mercedes. She hadn't seen it happen. No one had.

As lunch progressed, Kurt noted that Blaine very obviously did not like Quinn. Kurt felt like he was watching someone on survivor. Every time Quinn touched Blaine he looked like he was eating slugs. It was either that, or he had no idea how to handle a woman. Kurt chose the former because Blaine had been staring at Santana the whole lunch period. Maybe this was his chance to stop the Blaine/Quinn thing from happening.

Kurt started a conversation about Breadstix, and coaxed Santana into a well thought out trap. This wouldn't be hard, considering that Blaine was extremely attractive and Santana was probably already scheming how to get him.

"Santana, do you think Breadstix would make for a good date night?" Kurt pointed his head towards Blaine as he spoke, making her aware that Kurt wanted Blaine to hear the conversation.

"Uh, yeah. I go there like, every day. Unlimited breadsticks. I told you about the time I brought a barrel in, right?" She leaned in for a whisper, "That new guy is super hot. You trying to tap it Hummel?

"He's straight, Santana."

"Oh, I'm sorry" she spoke with pure sarcasm, "the way you were devouring him with your sex eyes had me thinking otherwise."

"I'm allowed to look! And be quiet he might hear you!" Kurt hissed.

Blaine was not listening at all. He had that space-case look about him again.

"Well if you're not, then Im'a get all up in those tight man-jeans."

Kurt shrugged and turned towards Blaine, setting his plan into motion. "What about you Blaine?" Kurt was being as innocent as possible.

* * *

><p>"Wh-what?" He snapped out of his thoughts. Was Kurt talking to him?<p>

"What about you? Do you think Breadstix is an acceptable place to take a date?"

"I guess. Unlimited Breadsticks, right?" He was suddenly very warm. _Oh no. That did not just happen. _He would love to take Kurt there. He stared at his lunch, which he had hardly touched.

"Good answer, Yoda. You should take Brittany and I there this weekend." Santana raised an eyebrow at him.

He didn't have much time to respond because Quinn abruptly got up and stormed off. So, sticking with his plan, Blaine apologized quickly and left also.

He couldn't sit with them after that. He had pledged his allegiance to Quinn, so unfortunately with Quinn he went.

* * *

><p>Blaine went scarlet, and avoided Kurt's eyes. He must have interrupted a personal thought. Once Santana had made her comment Quinn stormed out, and after a moments hesitation Blaine followed suit.<p>

"Well, you tried."

Santana was thinking, hard. Kurt noticed in her expression, that just for a moment, she had realized something important. However, she didn't share.

Instead she continued on with her meal. "He was gonna say yes. Quinn obviously bores him to death. He's either getting something _really_ good from her, or she has something dirty on him. By the look of those lady kisses on his neck though, I'd say he's getting him some Quinny-poo. Now pass me the ketchup afores I ends you."

Kurt obeyed, trying to figure out what he had missed that Santana had not.


	9. Kluets

**AUTHORS NOTE:** I went back and changed the story in little subtle ways. I needed to add a small amount of text for character development, so if you want to re-read feel free to do so. If you go back to chapter one, and read the authors note it will give you a better idea of the time frame. Thanks for all the support! (Also, sorry if the time jumps confuse you, I'm trying to figure out a way to implement both characters POV… feedback?) Also, so you guys know, it's September 20th in this scene. I know that's not how the school year typically goes, but eh, its fanfic, what can I do? There's your setting.

* * *

><p>It had been three weeks and one day since Blaine entered the raging sea of social ups and downs at McKinley High. He had sat through three glee club meetings, and Mr. Shue had been wrong, the kids were not warming up to him. Okay, so maybe that was his fault, but he had taken refuge with silence and it was safer there.<p>

Between avoiding Karofsky in the hallways, and rendering a false sense of chivalry towards the group's other members Blaine had reached his exhaustion point.

He had made sure that Dave knew nothing about his involvement in glee club, and Blaine tried his best to be civil when he sang along in the choir room. He was getting used to living a double life. Gay here, straight there, happy here, quiet there. His hair had grown out, and stubble was coming in dark around his jaw line. Today would be his fourth attendance, and he wanted nothing more than to skip it.

The only thing that had been going well so far was Blaine's "Quest for Quinn." At least, Blaine thought so. It hadn't been exactly hard to find her these days. Ever since his audition, she had been showing up all over the place. It made Blaine nervous and jumpy, especially because he didn't really care for her, not even as a friend. He didn't listen when she spoke at him, and only tuned in when she mentioned the glee kids. Blaine had become deeply invested in their personal lives. It made him feel slightly normal to know that other people had problems too.

For instance, he now knew who Kurt's brother was. Finn Hudson, quarterback of the football team. Blaine, of course, had already known that part due to his nightly bike rides, but it didn't hurt to feign interest. He wanted to soak in as much information as his thoughts would allow him. Apparently Finn was Kurt's stepbrother, which made sense because Kurt and Finn looked completely different.

Blaine was strangely attached to the idea of Kurt having lived with one parent at some point. Kurt had lived alone with Mr. Hummel for who knows how long. Just how he lived alone with his dad, but Mr. Hummel wasn't anything like Mr. Anderson from what he could remember. Blaine chose to ignore the flash of memory showcasing Mr. Hummel's insult. His mother _would_ probably disapprove of how he had been acting. He was hot with shame. Would he have turned out like Kurt if his father were less unpredictable?

Kurt's brother was tall, awkward, and had dark brown hair with matching eyes. It was funny that they both shared a roof; because Blaine was sure Kurt and the quarterback were polar opposites. He had also learned that Finn was a really good friend of Puck's, but Quinn wouldn't say much about _him_. Blaine just figured his and Kurt's relationship must be complicated and exhausted, giving Quinn no choice but to leave it out of their conversations.

He tried to ditch her whenever he could, and lunchtime quickly became his safe haven. Sometimes he would sit with her on the cold-steeled bleachers, but when it came down to it Blaine really preferred eating alone.

Solitude had always been his best friend. It gave him the silence he needed to clear his mind. He used the silence to write.

When his mom died, the shrink told him to keep note of his progress that way. Ever since then, he had grown accustomed to keeping a small leather moleskine in his back pocket at all times. His notebook held the secrets of his nightly spoils, poems, thoughts, and things he didn't want to remember anymore.

He found that if he wrote things down, they would vanish for a while. His memory would momentarily depart. Just how thoughts seemed to disappear when a two hundred pound man throws half his weight into your jaw. There's no time to think anymore, only to react. Blaine had mastered the art of immediate response.

So, ignoring the shrink, he wrote about his father instead. He didn't need her help. His mother was someone he never wanted to forget. He would carry her beauty with him always, through good and through bad. Even if the bad meant dealing with his horrible home life.

His bruises were still visible after all this time, and he was starting to wonder if they would ever camouflage with his skin again. It was because of Quinn that his body was refusing to heal. Maybe he should start writing about her?

Blaine wanted to free himself from Quinn so badly, but every time she pulled into an embrace the pain would remind him why he was there.

* * *

><p>Her plan had been going swimmingly. Blaine was so nervous around her that if she didn't slow down with her advances, he was sure to burst. She liked that. Sometimes he would be at a loss for words when she approached him. Blaine made her feel beautiful.<p>

For instance, last week Quinn walked up behind Blaine at his locker, and snuck her arms around his mid-section. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. _I wonder if he's a virgin?_ _He's way to hot to be a virgin._ She tugged him closer by his belt and asked what he was doing after school… and she kissed him, lightly. Peering into his soul as she did so. Blaine practically fell back out of shock.

He was probably trying to hide his embarrassment. She saw him adjust his pants when she let go. To bad he had to catch dinner with his dad, otherwise Quinn wasn't sure she could wait until Rachel's party.

Blaine looked better every day he came to school. His hair was getting thicker, and his beard was coming in darker. The only thing Quinn didn't like was how skinny he was. She was okay with the height thing, but his waistline was almost tinier than hers. She had been rather self-conscious ever since she gave birth to Beth. Quinn was momentarily swept away with thoughts about Puck. _I wonder if he thinks about her as much as I do?_ She quickly brushed them off.

Whether or not she wanted to admit it she still had feelings for Puck, but fate just hadn't worked out with him. He was bound to be a Lima Heights loser forever, and if things with Finn would never be the same then her only option was to move on… with Blaine.

Moving on was something she was bad at. She still wasn't used to her new way of thinking. She had lost everything, and Blaine was the only way she could get back on top at McKinley. She had to invite him to Rachel's Halloween party. _Done, and done. I'll call him tomorrow, and his v-card- if he has one- will, be mine._

* * *

><p>Quinn had been slowly morphing into another person as the days crept by. Blaine much preferred her this way. If she kept the act up, maybe he could bring her home to his father?<p>

Her white sundresses and short blonde hair would match well with his dainty colored curtains and great hatch windows. It was rich. Quite literally… Everything was: Blaine's house, his father… It made him sick with disgust.

_Stop pitying yourself; you deserve everything you're getting..._

"Blaine, wait up!"

It was Santana. How long had he been standing there? She was walking towards him in her short Cheerios uniform. Her long dark legs were slender and toned. They slid through the air effortlessly.

"Hello Santana, how are you?" Blaine was used to putting up a front for glee. Most of the kids saw through it, but with Santana it was different. He didn't know why, but he felt comfortable around her. She was safe, and he could be genuine with their interactions.

"I'm Good. How are _you_? Jeez, you look _awful_." Santana eyed him up and down, twirling him as she did so. "On your way to the meeting?" He laughed at her ability to be blunt. She smiled, grabbed his arm playfully, and held her books tight against her chest. She was much better than Quinn.

* * *

><p>Santana was testing him. Kurt had missed it, but she hadn't. That blush at lunch had been more than a bashful schoolboy moment. Weeks had passed, and when Santana wasn't watching Blaine's every move she was watching Kurt's. Because, crazy as it may seem, Blaine was watching them too.<p>

The new meat wanted Kurt like it was his J-O-B, but why was he hiding it? It wasn't like Dave could touch him. She had taken care of that teddy bear easily. _What is it with all these closet gays in McKinley? Please Santana, you're bitch ass is so far in the closet you're practically in Narnia._

Santana didn't usually throw herself into other people's business like this, who was she kidding, yes she did… But maybe Blaine needed someone in a similar situation? Okay, maybe _she_ needed Blaine, and for now she was just going to be his friend. He looked like he needed one of those.

She couldn't be the only one to notice Blaine's lust for Kurt though, could she? To her it had been fairly obvious. It was heart wrenching in a twisted romantic way. She had been watching Blaine day in and day out, and she had started piecing together the person he was clearly trying hard to forget.

She'd notice little things, things he'd do for Kurt that she always did for Brit. Opening doors, grinning at his comments, stealing glances between practice numbers. Blaine never spoke to him though. She saw it on his lips. Every time he formed a thought, he'd repress it. Ashamed. That needed to change. Blaine was Kurt's type, tiny and strong willed, but not to overpowering. _I am such a hypocrite. _

She had figured out a way to get the romance started for them, things just needed to go according to plan. Santana usually got her way, so she wasn't worried.

"Oh, well thank you!" he said playfully, "I _was_ feeling pretty dapper today. I'm all right, I guess. How about you, San?" _Jesus, why is this gorgeous bitch a gay man? _

"Sit with me today, Yoda?"

"…Sure?"

"Good boy." She patted his curls and with their arms linked they entered the choir room, to a very impressed glee club and a very jealous Quinn.

* * *

><p>"Alright New Directions, everyone here?"<p>

The kids silently looked around the room, and nodded at Mr. Shue.

"I have a new assignment for today, so get excited! I've noticed, and been well informed, that some of you are still not working as a team. If we want to win Nationals this year we have really got to get past this drama, guys! We only have a little over two months to prepare." Mr. Shue was pacing around the room as he gave his speech.

Everyone glanced at Blaine when he had spoken about teamwork. He felt their stares, but his eyes remained fixed on the chipped tiling towards the edge of the room. These people. These faces didn't even know him. They had been so quick to judge. Blaine was both infuriated and saddened by that.

Why just him? Other people in the club had issues too! He hated them in that moment, and as his mouth turned sour he realized that he had to get out of glee club. He couldn't be there anymore. He'd figure out the fine, or _something_.

"So, by power of suggestion," Mr. Shue nodded at Santana, who returned his smile with curious eyes, "I'm assigning duets!"

Rachel Berry clapped quickly in front of her chest, and impatiently started at Finn. Everyone seemed to be moving towards the person they wanted to sing with, but Blaine sat stiff in his seat, reminding himself why he wasn't good enough to be anyone's choice.

"Wait, Rachel! Brittany! Sit down please. Instead of choosing your partners, we are going to pick them at random from this hat. Everyone will come up one at a time, and pick a slip until each of you has a match. You will be sitting with your partner for the next three weeks, and have a duet prepared by the end of that time period... And you're not allowed to trade slips!" Mr. Shue pointed at them playfully before he concluded, "Winner gets a dinner for two at Breadstix! Ready?"

The mention of Breadstix filled the small room with heated conversation. Santana was grinning wildly. Mr. Shue hadn't seemed to notice that two slips were missing from his collection, and if he let them pick in order of the seating chart her plan was going to work.

"Mr. Shue, I think for the sake of the club, Finn and I-"

"No, Rachel. We need to learn how to compliment one another during a performance. True leaders become successful because they step out of their comfort zone. Everybody choose one- there you go, Finn. Here. Tina. Mercedes, did you get one? Blaine-"

"I got it Mr. Shue. Here Blaine." Blaine didn't see Santana slip the paper into her palm, but as soon as he opened it he immediately crumpled it up again.

_Kurt._ He bit the smile creeping on to his lips, and glanced over at those tight white pants and star reflecting eyes. _No. _

"Santana?"

"Mhmm?"

"Can we trade?"

"Oh, come on. You afraid he's gonna try to mack on your miniature sized lips? Chill. Kurt's a classy lady. Besides it'll be like singing with a girl anyways, and if you win you can take me on a date."

He was relieved. With one big breath, he felt the tension in his muscles leave. He knew she had seen the smile, so it was a relief to know she still thought he was straight. If being excited to be Kurt's partner didn't give her the impression he was gay, maybe he and Kurt could be friends without others knowing his secret. An air of excitement filled him. He was going to get to know Kurt!

* * *

><p>"Mr. Shue! All of these names have partners already…."<p>

Kurt sat holding the extra slips of paper. The hat contained one complete set of their names. Mr. Shue had explained that as each member was picked, they would pair up. If their name was called again it was discarded, and so on.

Kurt had sat patiently waiting for someone to say his name. He knew he would be last to pick from the hat, so he had assumed someone would approach him. _Please don't let this be a repeat of Rose's Turn._

Kurt watched as Quinn joined Sam, and Mercedes joined Rachel. Tina and Artie (that would be awkward). Puck and Finn. Santana and Brittany. Soon enough everyone in the room had been paired but him and- oh - _Blaine._

"Hey."

"Hello." Kurt exhaled his response; he didn't realize he had been holding his breath.

"So, I'm your partner." Blaine shrugged and slung his bag down next to Kurt's.

"That's ironic, huh?" Kurt's voice was higher than usual.

"Hah." Blaine shook his head, and placed it in his palms. "Yeah it certainly is." Kurt blushed, and brought his hand to his neck. _No Kurt! Stop it! _

There was an awkward pause.

"Listen. I really am sorry about what I did to you. I didn't- I-" Blaine was searching for words that weren't likely to come. "I don't know... I'm not good with this kind of thing."

"Blaine. It's been three weeks, five slushies, a couple dumpster tosses, and countless hallway shoves since school started. I think I can handle this."

* * *

><p>"…oh. I thought-" <em>I thought they said all of that stopped? <em>Blaine reflected, and tried his best to remember the cafeteria conversation. It had felt like ages ago when he had sat there listening in, but all he could remember from that day were Kurt's red cheeks.

"It didn't."

There was another awkward pause, and Blaine shot his hand into the air.

"Um. Mr. Shue? Can I go to the bathroom really quick?"

* * *

><p>Blaine picked up his bag, and left the room leaving Kurt mid-conversation. <em>That was a strange reaction.<em> Kurt, along with the rest of glee had thought Karofsky would cease his torment this year, but instead he had found loopholes in the school system. Instead of doing the tossing, shoving, or slushing himself, he got his idiot friends to do it instead.

"That was adorable."

"Santana. Aren't you supposed to be with Brittany right now?" He was fanning his face, still trying to get rid of the heat there. Glee club members were strewn about the room discussing song selections.

"Please, Hummel. We see each other like, every day. Where'd your boyfriend go?"

"He's not my boyfriend, and he went to the bathroom."

"Hm. Well, be gentle. He's a tender slice." She squeezed his cheek and turned to leave.

"What?"

"Bye Kurt." She tossed her hand into a wave, and went back to Brittany dismissing Kurt's comment.

* * *

><p>Blaine had excused himself to use the restroom. He wasn't sure if he could sit next to Kurt anymore without fumbling over his words or falling out of his chair. Kurt made his whole body stand on edge, and it was exhilarating. He needed to calm himself down. Blaine always got clumsy when he was nervous like that. <em>That was so embarrassing. Fuck. He thinks you're so lame. 'Oh Kurt, I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! I'm totally in love with you!' <em>He groaned audibly with regret. He couldn't go back after that. Glee was nothing but trouble for him. He was busy thinking about his bike ride home when he was approached from the side.

"Hey, Anderson!"

_What the-_

A slushie was waiting held tight in five thick fingers, aimed level with Blaine's face. He'd been caught. Blaine winced, knowing all to well the cold sting that was about to pierce his skin.

Nothing.

"Have you seen rainbow boy?"

"-fuck… Jesus Karofsky, I thought that was for me!"

"Sorry man, just trying to decide which gay club member to slush today. It's been a while, and since school is out for the day I figured…" Dave clapped Blaine's shoulder. "Any ideas?"

"I thought you weren't allowed to do that anymore?" Was he sticking up for them? _Blaine, are you mental? He is holding a large cup of artificially flavored __**freezing**__ ice. Say something else._ "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that... Well, about glee..."He squinted and raised his eyebrows as he asked. Almost expecting the slushie to come down over his head for uttering that word. After all, he'd been caught leaving the choir room anyways... what else did he have left to lose?

"Glee?" _Yes Dave, glee._ Karofsky inhaled once, and tilted his head back a little, "I'm listening."

* * *

><p><strong>Note: <strong>Please review this if you read it, this specific chapter was pretty hard for me to write. I hope everyone is still in character, etc... thanks for sticking with me!


	10. Seventeen

**NOTE:** Triggers.

* * *

><p>There he was. Curls, a tangled mess, buried beneath a mountain of pillows. His arms wrapped around his blanket like a nursing child. Something was calling him, but he was so comfortable he couldn't move. His eyes were painfully aware he was awake. <em>Just five more minutes…<em> A voice called out from the bottom of the stairs, much louder this time. His father. Blaine was suddenly very awake even though Mr. Anderson's voice was significantly less audible through the barrier of Blaine's door. He got out of bed, "BLAINE! Are you up?"

He did _not_ want to deal with this today. "Yes, dad."

"Where's the umbrella? It's not next to the door!" _If you actually took the time to look for it, you'd find it faster. _

"In the closet, dad." _Just like me, dad! _He practically spit out the last word. Was it raining? He had only been awake for five minutes, and he already knew today was going to suck.

He heard the muffled sound of rain against the window, then the wild crash of doors slamming, and angry non-coherent drabble as his father left the house for work. The car made an unusual metallic sound as it sped out of the driveway and pulled down the adjoining residential roads. Blaine felt no need to delve into the source of the noise, as his dad was always in a bad mood in the mornings. It was probably just the tires skidding on the pavement.

Blaine wanted to stay in bed all day. He did not want to bike through the downpour outside. He did not want to face the kids of McKinley, and he definitely did not want to think about how horrible his birthday was going to be this year. He flopped back on the bed again; arms spread wide sinking into the covers, unwilling to start his day.

* * *

><p>"Hey dude, isn't that Blaine?"<p>

They had barely begun their route to school; the rain along with Finn's inability to get out of bed had slowed them down.

"Finn, my name is Kurt. You insult my intelligence, and yes. I think. I think it is." _I hope it is._ He squinted out his passenger window towards the opposite side of the street. Undoing his seatbelt Kurt could hardly make out the small figure in the rain. His head was down, and his hands were shoved deep into his coat pockets.

"Should we give him a ride?"

"Finn, is that a question? Pull over. I wonder why his parents didn't drive him in today."

Finn pulled the car over next to the soaked mass of flesh.

"Blaine!" Kurt shouted over the rain.

"Hey! Blaine! Dude!" Kurt raised his eyebrows at Finn cynically.

Blaine snapped his head up and even through the rain Kurt could tell something was off about him. Blaine approached the car taking his time to get to Finn's window.

"What are you doing man? You're gonna get sick if you walk all the way to school like that." Finn was trying to coax him into the car. They were probably going to be late as it was, and if he took any longer to decide they would all get tardy slips.

* * *

><p>"Yeah. I guess so. I usually bike, but…" Blaine trailed off pausing to wipe the curls away from his forehead. Pushing away images of his newly run-over bike, left abandoned in the driveway. A flash of lightening, and a loud crack of thunder broke violently overhead. They all jumped.<p>

"What are you waiting for? Get in here! You're going to catch Pneumonia. Look at you! You're all wet!" He liked Kurt. Fuck, he liked Kurt.

"I'll ruin your seats." Blaine mustered a helpless grin as he said it.

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't understand why Blaine felt like such a burden. "Listen, if we didn't want to help you we wouldn't have offered! Now get in here! Finn and I always keep an extra set of clothes in the car, so if you want to change when we get to school you can. They're in the back."<p>

"…Thanks guys." Blaine quickly got in, and ran his fingers through the curly mop on his head. Tiny droplets of water sprayed all around the interior of the car. "Oops."

Kurt and Finn looked at one another, and burst out laughing. Kurt placed his hand on top of Blaine's. Kurt really liked that, "You're welcome."

* * *

><p>The school day droned on, and before Blaine knew it, it was time to go home. He was ready to collapse into his bed and bury himself in his pillows however long he could force himself to sleep. His day hadn't been as bad as he thought it was going to be. He was just exhausted.<p>

Truth be told Blaine was actually having a very _good_ day. Sure, there were no 'happy birthdays' but he was starting to feel like people cared about him. He was proud of himself for letting parts of old Blaine free, and it felt nice.

Blaine had chosen a pair of Kurt's tight jeans and one of Finns large comfy flannel tops for school. He felt so disproportionally squeezed yet loose that he couldn't quite think correctly.

Every time he ran into Finn or Kurt at school they would playfully mock his outfit. He acted unimpressed, but secretly they had made his day. He hadn't gotten attention like that for months now. Blaine was starting to feel like a member of New Directions, like he had friends. He no longer had to fake being genuine, and it scared him senseless.

As he left the building muscle memory brought him to the bike rack, and he realized there was no longer any need to go there. His bike had been destroyed. Blaine figured it was a better birthday present than a mouthful of blood and a chipped tooth like last year. _Thanks pop._ It had stopped raining, but the cold grey clouds made it much darker than usual. Blaine would have to go home at a reasonable hour tonight.

His dad was particularly violent on his birthdays. Blaine wasn't sure whether it was the fact that he wished he didn't have a homosexual for a son, or if he was mourning his wife's death. Maybe it was both. Regardless, Blaine wasn't really sure what to expect tonight.

His father - in the past weeks - seemed like he had toned it down a bit, but Blaine didn't want to get his hopes up. What would make him want to change now? He assumed there was a something going on because his father had been avoiding him around the house, stepping out to make phone calls whenever he seemingly got angry.

Maybe his dad thought that if Blaine were invisible he could forget the reason his whole life turned to shit? Maybe if Blaine didn't exist, in his eyes, then a couple years ago today his lovely wife would still be alive?

"You need a ride home, right?" A gentle voice he dreamed of way to often was standing beside him now, and he was grateful.

"Yeah, that'd be nice. Thanks Kurt." Blaine flashed him a goofy smile and let go of the bike rack he was leaning against. Their moment was ruined, however, as they left the semi-secluded space.

"Hey fag boy! Trying to make a new boyfriend?" Two jersey-clad boys strode towards them, mocking Kurt with their voices and flipping out flamboyantly limp wrists.

It was David and his friend Azimo. Kurt looked at Blaine, but Blaine was frozen. _Shit. Just leave David, you idiot. _Karofsky and Azimo didn't know, but they were mocking Blaine too, and he stood there solid with shock.

Memories flooded his mind: One where David held him down and smashed an egg in his freshly gelled hair; One where David punched him in the jaw for staring into space to long; One where David dumped a slushie on his head as kids watched in the hallway. Then there was Blaine crying in the bathroom, Blaine skipping classes, Blaine transferring schools…

Both Blaine and Kurt's faces were tinted red. Kurt spoke first, "What do you want?" He sounded defeated. Blaine knew the feeling to well.

The jocks ignored Kurt and turned to the frozen figure beside him, "Blaine, how's it going man?" Karofsky forcefully slapped his hand on Blaine's shoulder and the two pairs of eyes locked together, having an intense silent conversation. _Not here. This isn't how we were supposed to do this. Leave. You fucking idiot, leave!_

"Blaine, we should go. Lets. Lets go okay?" Kurt tugged lightly on the flannel hanging off of Blaine's arm.

"Yeah. I'll uh, I'll meet you in a second I forgot a book in my locker."

"Blaine, are you sure?" Kurt was glancing nervously between the two men; the tension could be cut with a knife. It was clear to Blaine that he suspected something was going on, Kurt just didn't know what it was.

"Yeah, go ahead without me."

Kurt nervously backed away running into Rachel and Mercedes as he turned around. Blaine didn't hesitate to start in on Karofsky, "What the hell David!" He was practically shouting his whispers.

"David?" Azimo laughed heavily forcing his shoulders to almost reach his ears.

"Shut up, Azimo," _Fuck, he called himself Dave now didn't he? _Blaine didn't acknowledge his mistake, and Karofsky continued, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

Blaine glanced at Karofsky's friend, hushing his tone so that only the two of them could hear, "That wasn't part of the deal, and you know it!"

"Oh come on, Blaine. Why do you even care so much?"

"I just do, okay. This has to be done right."

"Whatever. It's not like you give a shit about the fairy princess anyways. Right?"

"Ugh," he paused. David was such an asshole. "Right." Blaine furiously turned and headed towards the parking lot, fumbling in his bag to make it look like he had gotten his sketchbook. He quickly shifted his persona to diffuse the situation, and brought out his tiny moleskine from his back pocket to scribble a simple thought.

* * *

><p>Kurt, Mercedes, and Rachel were walking in a tightly knit formation to the parking lot, avoiding any kind of social damnation. Before branching out their separate ways Kurt stopped them both to finish the conversation at play. He had filled them in on his and Blaine's brief encounter with Karofsky, while concurrently arguing about Blaine's sexuality with Mercedes.<p>

"You think I'm making it all up in my head? Oh god, I'm making it all up in my head. I don't know, maybe that's why he is so mean all the time."

"That does kind of make sense. I mean, in a twisted way I could see Blaine, but Karofsky? No way, he is super hetero." Mercedes was clearly commenting solely to humor Kurt. She didn't think either of them was gay. How could he explain what he had just seen without outing Dave? He hated him, yes, but he would never do anything like that… and what was that look they were giving each other? Were they together in secret? His head began to hurt as he spun together intricate details about Blaine and Karofsky's secret love affair. Did Blaine even know what Karofsky was capable of? Kurt was jealous. How did Karofsky get to know Blaine better than him?

"There was something going on between them. He didn't even stick up for me; he just froze like the insult was for him! Like he was shocked Dave would say something like that to his face." _Scorned lovers. _He knew Blaine was to good to be true.

"Maybe he was shocked. He _is_ a new student! I think you two are making this to complex. There's no way they have something going on in secret, Kurt." Rachel saw the frustration grow on Kurt's face, "Although, my dads do say to never make assumptions! No one thought Jewel would be famous, right? She was even homeless for a little while."

"Duly noted." With a grimace Kurt glanced at the nearest car window, lifting his left hand to stroke through his perfectly coifed hair. "Mercedes?"

"Boo, I don't think we know him well enough yet to set things in stone. He barely speaks at practice, and he doesn't exactly hang wit us on the weekends."

"Great, an ambiguous gay duet partner. I told you he winked at me once, right?"

Rachel and Mercedes giggled.

"Oh, I know! Invite him out with us this weekend!" Rachel was jumping and holding on to Kurt at the same time.

"You just want him for yourself Rachel. Besides, if he doesn't play for Kurt's team I already got a dibs on that."

"Good luck getting past Satan. I mean, Santana." Kurt choked on his laughter. He was only joking, part of him liked how bold that girl was. He had made the comment more out of habit than anything else.

Rachel pouted in the silence. "Maybe he was just embarrassed that he was seen with you. Finn used to blush like that before _we_ were official. Oh, sorry. That came out wrong, huh?" Rachel saw Blaine approaching from behind their huddle. "I'm going to go, bye guys! See you tomorrow!"

"Alright, I'll see you two later. Keep your eyes peeled! Remember, this conversation stays between us!" Kurt loved his friends. They made every situation more tolerable.

"My lips are sealed! Bye Kurt, Mercedes! Drive safe!" Rachel exaggerated a wink before she left for the senior lot.

"See you later, Kurt!" Mercedes did the same thing.

Kurt rolled his eyes, trying to contain the warmth spreading to his face. His guilty pleasure was turning into a dangerous fascination. Kurt knew he was setting himself up for disappointment, but he couldn't resist the appeal of Blaine Anderson.

"Alright, ready to go?" Kurt gave a crooked smile at Blaine as he approached, bouncing forward lifting his book into the air like he had found something rare and desirable.

"Yep. Got my sketchbook and everything!" Blaine had never shown excitement like that before, and Kurt was taken aback for a second.

"Lets get to the car then, Anderson."

"Hey, whoa, Anderson's my dad's name! I'd take a silly pet name before I started calling myself Anderson." Blaine stuck his tongue out feigning disgust.

It was like the Karofsky meeting hadn't happened. Blaine playfully punched Kurt's shoulder from the side and stared into his eyes, letting them linger for a moment to long before letting go. Kurt let out a nervous giggle.

It took a moment for his brain to start working. _Blaine. Just. Touched. Me. He just touched me. Kurt, he touched you. Is he flirting? Crap. Where is the Berry Jones duo when you need them? _ "You do realize that I now have complete leverage to call you whatever I want, right?"

"Oh no, why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this?"

"Because you are."

They both smiled as they approached the navigator, slipping in one after the other for their ride home. All flirting aside, Kurt was determined to get to know Blaine better than Karofsky. There was obviously something he was missing.

* * *

><p>"So how are things with, uh, what was her name?"<p>

They were awkwardly standing in the kitchen. Blaine hadn't planned it on purpose, he just happened to be hungry at the same time as his father. Here they were, having their first father/son "dinner" in months and all Blaine could think about was whether or not he remembered his sons birthday. The fact that his dad brought up his personal life was beyond his imagination., so he let it go.

Blaine was surprised his dad could remember that far back. He had only mentioned her in passing to get the priest to shut up.

"Quinn? She's… alright." Pretending to be straight wasn't too bad after all. Mr. Anderson had been way easier on him whilst consumed in the lie, but his father was acting weird. It was almost as if Blaine had never come out to him. Kind of like how he handled the Karofsky situation with Kurt earlier. He wondered what the ulterior motives could be.

"So is she your girlfriend now?" Was he trying to have a conversation?

"Um. Not exactly, but we're, close? I think I like someone else more though." _Kurt, he's a boy, like me. Know him? He has impeccable fashion taste, an incredible range, a nice ass, and the prettiest eyes I've ever seen. We're duet partners._

The silence was broken by a violent shake on the table. Blaine's phone was buzzing. It was a call from an unknown number. He let it ring.

"I'm glad to see you're working on your little problem, Blaine." His father smiled weakly and cut into the vegetables on his plate. It was extremely forced, "I have too, obviously."

It was true. Blaine wasn't getting beaten half as much as he usually did, but that never lasted long. His phone was still vibrating.

"Jesus Blaine, answer your phone!"

"Sorry, I wasn't sure if that would be bad manners or not."

His dad stood up abruptly and grabbed Blaine's phone. Pausing, he gripped Blaine's wrist very tightly and shoved the vibrating plastic into his hand. He squeezed pushing Blaine's fingers hard into the mold. Blaine winced, and let a small gasp escape his lips.

"Excuse me for a moment." His dad threw his napkin on to the table as he walked out of the kitchen. It took Blaine a moment to unlock his fingers from the small object inside his palm.

He rolled his eyes. "Hello?"

"Hey Blaine, it's Quinn. Can you talk?" _No._

"I'm actually in the middle of dinner…" _I really don't like you._

"Oh. Should I call later?" _Yes. _

"No, it's fine. Did you need something?" _Make it quick._

She paused for a moment on the other line, and spoke slowly drawing out every syllable in her sentence, "Want to come to Rachel's Halloween party with me this year?"

He bit his lip. "Uh…Sure?" It was a pained reply. He didn't mean for it to sound like a question.

"…as my date?"

"Your date? Um. Yeah. Yeah that sounds good." Blaine was starting to question his ability to think things through. When had he become so impulsive?

"Great! I'll talk to you about it tomorrow at school! See you then?" she put on a seductive tone, "Bye Blaine."

He hung up without a reply. His father had since situated himself back at the table, and was waiting for Blaine to tell him what had just happened.

"' 'Was Quinn. She asked me out."

His dad formed an amused look, and nodded with approval, "That's great, son. I just made a phone call myself in the kitchen."

_Son? _Blaine hadn't been referred to as his son in so long that the word sounded foreign. Was his dad actually trying? _I don't know if I like this or not._ They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Feeling hopeful, Blaine pushed the conversation a little, "I miss her too, you know."

Blaine was eating his words before he could finish chewing. _I fucked up._ His father was looking at him as if he were the dirtiest thing he had ever seen. Blaine felt the tight restraints of something sharp wrapped around his heart.

"It's your fault, you know. It's your fault she's dead."

It was true; without him she would probably still be here. "…I know, dad."

"I wish you were never born."

"I know you do." He felt his heart breaking into a thousand pieces. Suddenly he wished he wasn't born either. His mood had somersaulted from hopeful to listless.

"I brought the priest home because I thought drastic measures were needed. Three schools, a car, and you still had your little issue! Should I have done that sooner? Obviously it was the right decision. I just need to know. Why now, Blaine?" His father was speaking scarily quiet, and low.

"W-why what?" Blaine was waiting for the punch to come.

"Were you just pretending to be queer so that you could rip this family apart? I bet you wanted your mother dead! I bet you laughed as she died. You forced her to do it. You forced her to die! You killed your mother!"

"N-no. I would nev-" A glass flew past his head and shattered on the island behind him. Blaine's chest felt like it was going to explode at the slightest touch.

"Get out of my sight, you worthless piece of shit."

Blaine ran up the stairs, and locked his door quickly as he fell into bed. He thought about his day, and wished he were at school. He wished he were at glee. When did school become his safe place? When did _glee_ become his safe place? Frustrated he punched his fist into the mattress, and got out his molskine._ Happy birthday, Blaine._

* * *

><p><strong>NOTE:<strong> Thanks for being patient guys, I just couldn't get this chapter right for some reason! Hope you stick with me on this one!


	11. Fireflies

**AUTHORS NOTE:** Sorry if it's slow, guys :/ I don't know how to condense well; it's my first fic I've ever written…

PS: I know I've been spelling Mr. Schue wrong, but… I'm to lazy to fix it so lets pretend its 'Shue' :D

PPS: I don't own anything from glee (bummer, right?) thnanks MC aka my second Santana 3

* * *

><p>"Alright, spill."<p>

"Spill what?"

"Come on. Don't make me say it."

"…."

They were occupying an abandoned classroom. Blaine wasn't even sure how they got there in the first place, but here they were…. chatting away. Okay, Santana was chatting, he was listening... or trying to listen, anyway.

He was leaning against the teacher's podium, and Santana was sitting on top of a desk situated directly in front of him. Everything was arms and hands. Blaine was very intimidated.

"Fine. First off, close your mouth it's embarrassing. Second, you know I'm here for you right? You kind of distance yourself from everyone, and it's really hard to get to know you."

"Hey, whoa. Not fair. I've been riding to school with Finn and Kurt every day this week! Totally _not_ distanced, _and_ I'm dating Quinn… so…"

"Yeah that was my third point… What are you doing?"

"Fuck, Santana, you sure know how to hold a conversation."

"Yoda, not in the mood for your dark side shit. Let me put it this way. Since you aren't working with a sister here… are you going to Rachel's Halloween party?"

"I don't know…"He was playing with Kurt's delicate outline, which he had hidden in his most intimate thoughts. Blaine _was_ going, just not with the person he wanted.

"Psh. Of course you are, _everyone_ will be there." She gestured to where Kurt had previously been standing. Right, _that's_ how he had gotten here. He was on his way to the Navigator, and Santana had ambushed him.

Blaine never thought that he would be thankful for his dad's outburst, but now that he had no source of transportation, he was seeing a lot more of Kurt… and the more Blaine saw and experienced, the less confident he was about staying away from him. They had developed a casual friendship, and it was comfortable. Safe. So, _what_ exactly was Santana insinuating? It's not like she knew he was gay.

Did she?

Fuck, was he that obvious? How did- …

Did she _know_? Blaine was filled with panic. What the hell had she meant by that? Santana continued to speak, but he wasn't listening until he heard Quinn's name.

"…Besides, Quinn has a baby daddy are you really interested in that?"

He started, pausing to catch himself properly on the finely polished surface behind him. It was just one surprise after another today, wasn't it?

"What?"

"Oh my god. This is rich." Santana's arms were crossed. She cocked an eyebrow, and held back a laugh.

Blaine's mouth was hanging open in disbelief. "Quinn has a baby?"

"That's beside the point, kid. Are you going to Rachel's or not?"

"San, that's like a month away." He threw his hands up in frustration. "Hold on though, Quinn has a baby?"

"_Had _one." She changed the subject, "Great, so that's a yes. By the way, you look sexy with the wild mane you're rocking right now, but Kurt likes his men a little more clean-shaven. Might want to get a haircut." She swiped a finger over his stubble, winked at him, and tilted her head a little.

She knew.

"Santana."

"Yeah?"

He might as well…

"You won't. You won't say anything, right?"

"Please. Blaine, lets be real. I'm a huge bitch, but I wouldn't _out_ you. Who do you think I am? Besides, I play for the other team too. We can be like, secret gay spies or something."

A sense of heat rushed into his stomach. It was different than he was used to. Blaine fought back the layer of moisture pooling in his eyes and launched forward smothering Santana with the biggest hug he could produce. She had no idea what she had just done for him. It felt like he had finally caught his breath after a long race. He _knew_ he saw fire in her. He _knew_ he liked that girl!

"Thank you, San. You're the fucking best." He pecked her on the cheek, and threw his arms around her neck.

"You're welcome Yoda, and please, stop hugging me because if you make me cry I swear to god I will lock your midget ass in the janitors closet."

He squeezed harder.

* * *

><p>Behind them, Quinn quietly scoffed in the doorway, wondering how to process the secrets she had just overheard.<p>

* * *

><p>It didn't take Blaine long to find his way to the Hummel-Hudson car. Both Finn and Kurt were waiting in the front seats as he made his way inside. Kurt had put on Lady GaGa, and was humming along in unison with a tapping foot. It was obvious he was trying to detach Finn's attention from Blaine, but it wasn't really working.<p>

"Blaine where were you, man? We were waiting for like twenty minutes."

"I was with Santana. We were talking about my agreement with Mr. Shue… for defacing your brother over there." He glanced at Kurt. "Which I'm still sorry about, you know." The lie came easy. What else was he supposed to do? Blaine couldn't just throw it out there that he and Santana had just come out to each other. That would make for an awkward conversation, wouldn't it?

Kurt smiled at him nervously.

"Blaine stop apologizing, you're allowed to feel bad every once in a while… and for the millionth time I don't care! Well I do, but you are forgiven. It was a mistake."

"I know, I know. I'm just not used to messing up like that. I don't know what came over me, I-"

"-okkkay," Kurt abruptly changed the subject, "so listen. I don't know if you would be interested, but since we haven't really gotten together yet… would you want to come over later for a little bit?" Blaine hesitated so Kurt quickly added, "Just to pick a song, and then you can go."

"I'm not sure I can tonight. My dad's a little, uh, strict when it comes to… going out and stuff." This time it was Kurt's turn to hesitate. "On a school night, and everything I mean."

"Alright, how about this weekend?"

Blaine could do that. His dad was usually gone the whole day doing who knows what. He would definitely have time to go see Kurt. "Great. Saturday?"

"It's a date!"

Blaine's jaw dropped.

"I was joking…"

"Yeah. Yeah, I know."

* * *

><p>Inwardly, Kurt wasn't joking.<p>

* * *

><p>To say Blaine was nervous would be a major understatement. Not only was he self-conscious in regards to facing Burt Hummel again, but also he had taken Santana's advice and cut his hair. Blaine's face felt naked without his blanket of curls. It hadn't been this short since his sophomore year, and although it wasn't plagued down with gel he felt like a blazer would appear out of nowhere and strap itself to his body at any given moment. Blaine's hair had always reminded him of his mother, so he was weirdly attached to the way it looked. He hoped Kurt would like it.<p>

Slowly but surely Blaine made his way up to Kurt's front door. This was the closest he had ever been to those stained glass windows, and peering through he saw the life he had wished for countless times. It was different than he imagined, but it fit the criteria. Chocolate brown leather couches, bright glowing candles, assorted pots and plants. It was warm, inviting- Kurt.

"Did you want to come in?"

* * *

><p>Kurt wasn't prepared for this. If he had thought Blaine was gorgeous <em>before<em> then he had no idea how to describe him _now_. He stood in the doorway extending an inviting arm. _Speak, Kurt._ Suddenly everything felt hot. His high top black boots, his tight white pants, his light blue button up… everything was off. Kurt reached up and shielded his eyes from the sunlight. This was going to be a long afternoon.

"Did you want to come in?"

Kurt couldn't stop his eyes from focusing on Blaine's new look. He absentmindedly reached up and examined Blaine's hair. Apparently he had also forgotten to close his mouth. Where were his manners, and how could he train his eyes to look elsewhere? There was a roughly young face hidden under Blaine's hair, and now that it was free it was almost impossible to look away from him. He was captivating. When Kurt found his words it was lighter than usual. "I like your hair."

* * *

><p>Blaine flashed him a smile and raised an arm to inspect the chopped up curls. "Oh, thanks. I figured it was time. Do you really like it?" Blaine's hopeful eyes met Kurt's. He'd thank Santana later.<p>

"I love it!" Kurt really needed to work on his blushing problem. So did Blaine. They stood quietly for a bit before Kurt broke the silence with a joke and ushered him inside. Eventually Kurt led them down to his room, and grinned proudly while Blaine stepped wide-eyed into the beautifully decorated space.

Blaine felt like he had stepped into another world. The walls were decked in white and the furniture was white with grey undertones. Large speakers sat boldly on a shelf. An IPOD tucked neatly into its place in the middle. It was incredible.

He wondered what Kurt would think of _his_ room… especially his glow in the dark stars. Those were his favorite. Kurt would probably never see them, though. He pushed that to the back of his mind.

In retrospect, Blaine felt pleased with himself. All those nights of staring into Kurt's stained glass windows, and he had finally made it inside! He was oozing happiness. Thank god Santana didn't trade slips with him because if Kurt weren't his duet partner then none of this would have been possible.

"We should do something from a musical." Blaine felt completely at ease as he ghosted the tips of his fingers over the edge of Kurt's desktop chair. He wasn't scared of acting gay here. Kurt was safe. Kurt's house _was_ safe. Maybe he should just tell him. No. It was to soon for _that_.

"I was thinking we could do something from a 60's classic." Kurt found his way to his bed and motioned for Blaine to join him.

"What about both?" Blaine excitedly clasped his hands in front of his chest, and skipped over to Kurt's bed sinking down beside him. Kurt's bed was comfortable. What would it be like to fall asleep there?

"Like, The Sound of Music?"

"Hm, we could do better. West Side Story?"

"Overdone. My Fair Lady?"

"Overdone?" Blaine widened his expression and teased, "Please, I'd be the perfect Tony." Kurt snorted. "Maybe we should steer clear of Broadway then? What about musical movies?"

"You have my attention."

"Do you trust me?"

"It depends Blaine, are you planning on picking a duet about cheese?"

"Hey."

"Sorry, it couldn't be avoided."

"Well, next time I come over I'll bring a movie over. I know exactly which one I want to sing from."

"Okay, but I'm not agreeing until I hear the song." Kurt was caught off guard. Blaine was already thinking about a next time. His stomach swooped and he brought a smile to his lips.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll sound beautiful. You always do."

He didn't mean for it to come out like that. It was an accident that his tone got so dreamy and he surely didn't intend for his eyes to flutter like , Kurt pressed on. The two of them bantered for a good hour before taking a break and getting to real in-depth conversations. They were finally getting to know each other, and Blaine could not have asked for more.

So far Blaine had divulged that Katy Perry was his idol, his guilty pleasure was Frank Sinatra, and that his mother had passed away his freshman year. He didn't go into specifics, but when Kurt relayed that his biological mother had also passed they clicked. Something deep between them formed. An understanding. They felt for each other. It wasn't until they got to the subject of Blaine's transfer that things got a little uncomfortable. It seemed to always come full circle with his father, didn't it?

"McKinley's your _third_ school?"

"It is." Blaine raised an eyebrow from the bed, and swung his feet slightly, never breaking focus from his neatly tied shoelaces. "Is that a problem?"

"No, I-"

Blaine chuckled, removing his hands from underneath his thighs and shoved Kurt playfully on his side. Kurt giggled back awkwardly.

"Kurt, it's fine. It's okay, really." He shook his head and continued laughing to himself. "Um. Well." How should he say this? His fingers found their way to his curls once more. "My first transfer happened after my mom died."

Kurt's head snapped up. "I didn't realize."

"Don't say you're sorry."

* * *

><p>"I wasn't." Kurt gave Blaine a smug look. "Mine's dead too, remember?" His eyes fell. "I know. The apologies get old, don't they?" He leaned over reciprocated Blaine's side bump. What <em>was<em> it? Why was it so easy to talk to him like this? Hours had passed, but it felt like minutes. Spending time with Blaine was effortless. It was almost intoxicating.

* * *

><p>Blaine wasn't sure what it was, perhaps it was the feel of Kurt's room or the fact that he was so understanding… but… Blaine felt like he could say anything and Kurt would understand. Kurt made him a new person. He felt alive. He felt <em>awake<em> with Kurt, and he wouldn't let anything jeopardize this.

"Listen, regarding that first transfer…. It's not something I'm proud of." He paused. "I ran, Kurt." His feet took his attention again, and he started swinging them out of reflex. Blaine hadn't even told Wes or Jeff about this. "There was… this guy."

Karofsky.

"He, uh- he had some problems with me. Not too long after my mom died everything got worse, and I made the mistake of going to our school dance." He took a moment to inhale. "Half way through, my date and I went out to get some air, and this guy and some of his friends beat the living crap out of me." Karofsky's wicked grin flashed into Blaine's vision. He wanted to tell Kurt, but it was impossible. No matter how easily they got along, David was the one thing he could use to keep them separate. He loved spending time with Kurt, but… he couldn't go through the bullying again. He wouldn't. The last thing he wanted was for Kurt to get hurt.

It took Kurt a while to respond. Instead, they just stared at one another, listening to each other's short breaths. "Why would someone do something like that?"

Blaine avoided the question, and shrugged in place of an answer. "Anyway, after that came Dalton, and the transfer after that," he rolled his eyes, "wasn't my choice. It was my father's. No offense to McKinley or anything. I really liked Dalton is all…"

* * *

><p>Kurt noticed the solemnity in the other's voice. Blaine was avoiding eye contact now, and Kurt reached over to take Blaine's hand in his. He knew his friend wouldn't mind the contact. There was something in the way Blaine moved and spoke around Kurt that was different with everyone else. It's like out of all the people at McKinley, Blaine was the only one who looked past his reputation and saw him as a person. He was <em>real<em>. He paid attention, and noticed things. Hopefully Blaine would look past the fact that Kurt was gripping his palm a little to hard, and ignore the look of pure adoration beaming his way.

* * *

><p>Blaine stopped talking when Kurt took his hand in his. He wondered if Kurt could feel the way his heart was beating through his pulse points, or if Kurt could tell how unnaturally warm his skin was. Blaine focused on his breathing.<p>

"He said that singing in an all boys group was for fags."

Oops. Word vomit. _Blaine you big fucking idiot!_ There was no redemption with this one. Either Kurt would think he was homophobic by association and stop talking to him, or hate his dad for being a moron and do the same thing. The other end of the bed was looking more and more inviting.

* * *

><p>Oh.<p>

That wasn't what Kurt was expecting to hear. He dropped Blaine's hand, and looked at the wall. "Is that why you wouldn't come over the other day?"

There was an exaggeratingly long silence between the two of them. Blaine was fidgeting nervously and picking at his nails. "Sort of. Kurt, can I ask you a question?"

As irritated as he was, something told him that Blaine wasn't trying to be rude or offensive. "Always."

"Does your dad know?"

"Know about what?

"You know."

"No. I don't, Blaine. Does he know _what_?"

"That you're," Blaine swallowed hard as if saying the word would make him combust, "gay."

"Yes? I mean, yes. Why?" Kurt zapped into hyper-speed picking through every possible reason as to why Blaine would ask about that. If he knew any better, Kurt could swear Blaine was inadvertently asking for advice. So he went with it, making sure to not jump to conclusions, in order to provide as much information as possible. Blaine was straight… but if he _were_ gay, (which was looking more likely by the moment) it had to be hard living with a homophobic father.

"Oh." Blaine made eye contact for the first time since he brought up Dalton. There was something behind his eyes again. Fire. Pain. What was he hiding in there?

"Blaine."

"He never. Your dad, he's cool with it?"

Oh god.

Blaine was gay.

He had to be. Blaine was gay, and his father didn't accept it. How had he dealt with that all alone? Was that why he made Blaine change schools? Was that why Blaine was so guarded all the time? Kurt couldn't catch a grip on his thoughts. It was all starting to make sense: Blaine's uncanny ability to push everyone away, his awkward relationship with Quinn, his gravitation towards the only out and proud homosexual at McKinley…

"I'm lucky. I know. If I didn't have a support system at home, along with glee club, I'm not sure where I'd be right now. Blaine. Is there-" How the hell was he supposed to approach this? _Don't jump to conclusions until you have facts, Kurt. _He couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yeah, well. I should be going then, huh?"

Not even five minutes had passed after that and Blaine was out the door, mumbling to himself as he walked quickly back to his own place of residency. Kurt immediately whipped out his phone.

_K: I need your help!_

_M: Calm down, boo. What can Mama Cedes do for you?_

_K: He's gay._

…

_M: Shut. Up._

_K: This conversation doesn't leave our phones._

_M: Got it. Want to come over?_

_K: Already in the Navigator._

* * *

><p><strong>NOTE: <strong>I only proof read this once, so sorry if it's choppy or weirdly timed out. I just had to publish it before it started collecting dust. I'll update WAY faster next time :D As always _thank you_ all SO much for sticking with me, I'm so much happier knowing that people actually care to read this! Also thanks for the reviews; they have been so sweet so far!


	12. Not the Only One

**AUTHORS NOTE: edit: (thanks for the review! anywho, you're right. I think ive been feeling weird about the chapters bc its taking me so long to publish them! So, on that note. I'm going to do my best to make them quicker. The end of this month is crazy for me bc im working all day every day from the 19th on, so maybe I can get the party out for you guys before that?**

* * *

><p>Blaine awoke that morning to large smooth hands stretching gingerly down his chest. Lungs rising and deflating heavily, his eyes stared down into the face pressed coolly against his skin. He must have come in the night. "mmmph." Blaine parted his lips, and sucked them together sharply welcoming a warm intake of breath. Fingertips, lightly trailed down to his thighs, leaving long stimulating lines of pleasure as they crept over his body.<p>

_This is amazing. _

He wrapped himself tighter in his sheets, thrusting steadily into the fabric atop his frantic grip. Hot, sticky, breath echoed into the cavity of his left ear, _'Blaine.' _The boys tongue slid slowly down his neck, stopping to apply painful pressure on every inch of his collarbone. He groaned audibly, "Kurt-" His hips were pushed harshly down into the mattress, and the heat spread to his stomach instantly, igniting his urge to release.

His boxer briefs had now become significantly tightened, his breath was shallow and wanting… he needed this. Tight lips wrapped themselves around Blaine, taking him in whole, and he pushed into the wet flesh desperate for that final moment. Faster, and faster, cheek filling flesh until- "Fuck, fuck, I'm going to-" his vision snapped into place, unleashing an instant burn from the stringent light piercing his lust blown eyes.

'_Beep Beep Beep Beep.' _

The steady ping of his alarm clock brought Blaine back to reality, and he stared at the plastic stars fixed on his ceiling to gain his bearings. _Shit._ His hand and sheets were coated in a thick string of cum. That was the third time this week he had pictured Kurt's perfect mouth sucking him off. All of this was getting a bit out of hand.

He laid back and closed his eyes once more, fantasizing about the lips of the boy he so desperately wanted to kiss. Three times in one week wasn't bad, right? No, it wasn't bad until it was four. No, five. Five was the cut off number. _No. Stop. You can't do this anymore. He's just a person. He's nothing. _He sat up and flung his knees over the side of his bed, blindly grabbing for the tissues placed conveniently adjacent to his headboard. What a fucked up way to start the day. 6:30. At least he wasn't going to be late for school. Another stretch of muscle, and his notebook was in his hands. He scribbled wildly across the pages.

Recently all he had been writing about was Kurt, Quinn, and his father. It's not that be actually wanted to forget Kurt, it's just that… well… if he didn't that might be the only thing he could think about. Kurt was in everything. That couldn't be healthy, could it? Kurt was the reason he was living on the edge. Kurt was the reason he took his father's insults with a grain of salt these days. Kurt gave him hope. Courage. Strength. Maybe he shouldn't put Kurt into his book? But if he didn't… he surely wouldn't last long here, would he?

He stopped to read over his entry. _This is for the best._ After quickly getting dressed, staring at his lack of curls, and spritzing on cologne Blaine was down the stairs and out the door before his dad even knew he was up. Thank god Finn and Kurt liked to get to school early.

* * *

><p>Blaine had arrived not five minutes ago, and the second he stepped into the hall with Kurt and Kurt's ogre of a stepbrother she was at Blaine's side tugging his arm and glaring at the others.<p>

"Hey babe, love the hair." Quinn leaned in and placed a sloppy kiss on the side of Blaine's mouth. He frowned into it. Quinn watched as he side eyed Kurt who was doing the same. What fun this was going to be…

"Uh. Hey Quinn. Thanks."

"I missed you so much." Quinn leaned towards Blaine's ear and nipped at it softly, pressing him back into a freshman's locker, and keeping her eyes on Kurt the whole time.. _Take a good look at what isn't yours Kurt._

"I-"

"We'll see you at lunch then, Blaine?" Kurt shot Quinn a glare before he spun on his heel and headed down the hall. She had won. To be expected.

"Yeah, lunch. Bye guys." Blaine could barely answer over the movement of Quinn's mouth on his. She hoped Kurt was getting a good show. Soon, though, Finn and Kurt had gone and it was just the two of them. Blaine was awkwardly tripping over sentences, and Quinn was grinning at his discontentment.

"Quinn, I should get to-"

_SLAP_

Quinn stood in front of Blaine with her blonde ponytail pulled tight to her scalp. Features sharpened, she waited patiently, smoothing the seams of her red uniform skirt as Blaine recovered from the sting of her palm to his face. She advanced again.

_SLAP_

"Quit it! Jesus Quinn! What'd I do?" _What did you do? You made me look like an idiot! You're cheating on me with a boy. You… ugh! _She had something to say, and he was going to listen. She was _not_ going to look like a fool to the entire McKinley student body. Not this year. Not ever.

"Do you even care about me Blaine?"

Blaine paused to rub his cheek, confusion etched into every feature of his face. His confusion only made her angrier. To think she almost slept with someone who was secretly going behind her back with Kurt. The cross contamination of it all was almost too much to handle. To think… just…. ew.

As soon as she had found out about his little secret, Quinn forced her way into coach Slyvester's office. With an extreme amount of coaxing, and assurance that letting a teen mother on her squad would provide diversity and therefore leeway into nationals, she was reappointed as head Cheerio.

Thank God.

Once everyone at school found out Blaine was gay, her reputation would be worse than it was when she was with child... but not if she ended it first. Which was what she was about to do. All of this was Kurt Hummel's fault.

She took back everything she had ever said about him. He deserved the slushies. He deserved the bruises on his shoulders from the cold metal walls. Kurt was a backstabbing, stupid, high pitched-

"You know what. Don't even answer that." She pushed him back into the lockers with her pointer finger. "You're _so_ not my type. I don't even know why I wasted my time on you. You're that I'm back on the Cheerios, I don't need you. Now you can go and _kiss_ your little boyfriend whenever you want."

"Wh-What?"

"I know about you and Kurt. You can thank _Santana_ for that one. I said, we're done. So please, get out of my way, I don't want people seeing me with a loser."

"She told… Quinn I don't know what you're-"

_SLAP_

His eyes widened as the hand backed away from his face, almost like he was shaking away a bad memory. What did that matter to her? Maybe he was thinking about how much better _Kurt's_ hand felt. She was no fool. She knew what she had heard. She knew what she had seen. "Don't even try to lie to me, asshole. I said get out of my way! Get out of my way, Blaine!"

"Please Quinn- Can we just…"

"Save it. It's not like I'm going to parade around school telling everyone I dated _scum_. What good would that do for me?"

Was she going to tell people? Yes. Was she going to tell people right now? No. He had to be humiliated first. Quinn wanted to make sure Blaine felt just as embarrassed as she had felt. She was angry, hurt, betrayed. Hearing him confirm it was worse than witnessing it in the first place. She wasn't going to cry. She was going to smile, keep calm, and figure out how to use this information to her advantage.

Maybe she could get Blaine to take her spot as a bottom feeder. Hell, she was basically back on top anyways as head Cheerio. Now that she was becoming close with members of the football team again, namely one Sam Evans, it didn't seem like too hard a feat.

Who could help her with this? _How can I make him miserable? How can I force him to own what he's done? The Skanks could help, but I need someone popular. Someone with pull…. Someone like… yes, perfect. _If there was one person at school who could make his life miserable, it was Karofsky. He'd be more than willing to help. He hated Kurt, why not add Blaine to the mix?

Quinn had lost her ties with the team once her and Puck broke it off, and god knows from whatever happened with Finn…. but this duet competition had proved to be of good use. Shortly after being partnered with Sam she had found out he was competing for quarterback. Last week she had felt guilty about kissing him behind Blaine's back, but now… now she was relieved. With Sam on the team she had a reason to talk to Karofsky, and if she played her cards right he'd agree to help her.

* * *

><p>What a strange day. Strange being a serious understatement.<p>

From wet dreams about Kurt to Quinn's erratic behavior and Santana's obvious betrayal his head was spinning by first period. The looks he was getting weren't helping. They weren't the kind of looks he had gotten his first day at McKinley either. They were… different, in all regards.

Strangers looked at him with confusion. Did his haircut really make him unrecognizable? Quinn looked at him with disgust. To be expected. He could still hear the slap echoing off of the empty hallway… a friendly reminder of what to expect when he got home later that day. _Thanks, Quinn. I love it when people remind me how fucked up I am. _Why would Santana tell her? Did she tell everyone? Is that why he was getting these stares? _Oh god. Oh god._

He could deal with all of this. He could. He was stronger than before. It's not like he wasn't used to the looks. It was just a few of them in particular he was worried about… One being the look David Karofsky gave him every time they passed each other in the hall, and two, a few that were resonating from members of the Glee Club.

The first one he was more frightened of, because he had a similar hairstyle his freshman year. All he needed was some gel, and David would surely catch on to his true identity. Maybe he already had, or maybe he was just looking at Blaine weird because he hadn't upheld his part of their agreement yet.

An agreement he was starting to get cold feet for. Although their agreement was kind of necessary if he was going to fix everything… between him and his dad, Quinn, and everyone else.

As for Glee Club…

Mercedes, Rachel…. Okay maybe it was just those two (If he discounted Quinn and Santana, they were a different mess he'd have to deal with), but it was _their_ looks that were loads more uncomfortable than the others. He couldn't place it. They would just, stare at him. Whispering. Smiling. In the halls, in the lunchroom, every time he would venture near them he'd get this twisting feeling in his stomach. Why did he care so much what they thought?

People had done this to him his entire high school career, and he thought he had overcome the embarrassment. So they didn't like him. Whatever. No matter. But what if Kurt didn't either? They were all best friends. What if the three of them got together every day, and made fun of him? Was that what it was? That Kurt hated him. _Shit._

Blaine froze for a second as he finished paying for lunch, and briefly considered returning to his solitary table in the back of the lunchroom when he caught sight of Kurt laughing at one of Puck's jokes. His jealousy took over. Puck wasn't even that funny. He was crude. Why would Kurt want to be with someone like him? _If Puck loves Kurt enough to tell me to back off, there's got to be something, but what?_

Again, he was blind sighted by Rachel Berry. She had a habit of appearing out of nowhere. Kind of like Mr. Shue… "Blaine! Good afternoon, you're looking well rested. You're coming to sit with us, right?" She paused. "Blaine? Are you feeling okay?"

Rachel followed his gaze to the Glee section of the cafeteria, replaced her confusion with a smile, and took Blaine's arm in hers.

"Rach, how long have they been together?" The words escaped Blaine's lips before he had time to process the implications. Why would he need to know something like that? Maybe she'd look past it.

"Who?"

"Puck and Kurt. How long have they been dating?"

Rachel stopped walking, and blocked their path with her body. She had to set her tray on an empty table until she was able to control her laughter, and for some reason it made Blaine furious. _Bitch._

"Puck and Kurt?" she clutched at her stomach. Blaine instinctively looked at his. It wasn't so long ago when he was doing the same. He felt a rush of hatred pulse through his body. Rachel was supposed to be his friend.

If Wes and Jeff were here they wouldn't be laughing at him. They'd be patting him on the back and giving him answers. Where were they nowadays? They barely called or texted anymore... He really was a fuck up, wasn't he? Not even his old Dalton friends wanted to talk to him anymore.

"Yes, Rachel. Puck and Kurt! Jesus, sorry for even asking! It's not like I care about it, I was just trying to make conversa-" His failed attempts at stepping around her forced him to set down his tray next to Rachel's. "-tion. Can you move please? What's so funny?"

"Oh god, Blaine." She had finally composed herself enough to place her hands on his shoulders. "Puck is definitely not dating Kurt. He's going to die when he finds out you thought they were dating." She giggled, "I knew there was a mix up between you two!"

"A mix up? No, I don't. I don't care, I was just wondering… I mean," he started blushing. Ugh, why did he always have to blush? "I just. He threatened me to back off Kurt, so I assumed… he doesn't like me, and…"

Rachel stared at him blankly, as she watched the wheels turn and click in his head. Blaine stood a bit taller, and finally made eye contact with Rachel.

"Quinn."

"Quinn? I heard you two had an altercation this morning. Is everything okay, or should I call Miss Pillsbury? She's excellent, Miss Pillsbury, I've had several meetings with her and Finn. We-"

"We broke up, but everything's fine. Really, that's not necessary. Listen, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Is Puck… is he… did him and Quinn?"

"Say no more Blaine Anderson." Rachel shot up a hand, and inhaled deeply. That meant she had a lot to say. _Oh no._ "Yes Puck is the father of Quinn's now adopted child and I don't wish to speak of it because it brings forth bad memories and I-"

"Do you ever take time to breathe when you speak? That's all I needed. Thanks. Lets go sit down, I'm starving."

* * *

><p>Kurt had spent the past hour wondering if his friends were keeping quiet. He felt guilty. It had been a lack of judgment on his part rushing to Mercedes like he had, and luckily he had gotten to her before she spilled a secret that wasn't theirs to share to all of their classmates. He was to late for Rachel though; the brunette had arrived at Mercedes' house barely ten minutes after he did. There had to be a reason Blaine wasn't sharing his sexuality with everyone, and even though he felt bad for telling Mercedes, he was glad he could talk to his two best friends about it now.<p>

"So, Blaine," _I told my best friends you're gay please tell me you're gay, _"what's this all elusive song, you won't tell me about?" Kurt sunk into the couch next to Blaine. He wasn't surprised that Blaine had asked to come over. After all, the boy _did_ mention he had intentions of meeting again.

Kurt just hadn't expected it to be so soon, and when Blaine had asked him in arms with Rachel Berry the previous week at lunch… Kurt couldn't help but agree… considering the fervent (borderline psychotic) look Rachel was giving him to accept.

Blaine leaned forward to unzip his bag, and shoved a worn DVD cover into Kurt's hands. He smoothed his thumb over the title, 'Once.' They exchanged smiles. "Great movie. Which song?" Their eyes met once more. There was something behind Blaine's again, but Kurt was to busy avoiding a glance at his mouth to dissect what they were saying.

"The obvious one, of course." Blaine flashed a brilliant smile, got up, and walked over to Kurt's keyboard. "I wanted to do 'Falling Slowly'. I saw this the last time I was here, so I figured you could play while I did the guitar part."

Kurt silently cursed himself. Why couldn't he have attempted to learn how to play it earlier? "This is mildly embarrassing, but… I actually don't know how to play."

"Oh."

"But you can. Don't think for a second I've forgotten that glee club audition, Anderson!"

"Oh stop. I'm not that good."

"Well you're bound to be better than me."

"I could teach you. I mean, if you wanted me to."

Kurt caught his breath, "You'd do that?"

Before he knew it Blaine was behind him leaning down and over his body to grab the DVD from his clutches. His cologne didn't hesitate to engulf itself into Kurt's senses. "Why wouldn't I, _Hummel_?"

* * *

><p>He was flirting. It was impossible not to! Kurt just <em>did<em> things to him, and… okay. He was cracking. It was only a matter of time, really, and in all honesty he just wanted to spend more time with the one person he felt normal with. Was that too much to ask? What if he _could_ have Kurt? What if they could keep it a secret or something? No… that could never… _Could you be more stupid? _

"We should. We should practice."

Blaine cupped his hand over Kurt's shoulder, but right as he was about to walk away he noticed something. Kurt had winced at the touch. Before the other could react, he was pulling at the fabric of Kurt's shirt to expose a small bruise along his back.

"Hey!" His hand was promptly swatted away.

"Kurt, what is that?"

"It's nothing."

"No it isn't 'nothing.' You said your dad didn't care. You said-" He was cut off. Kurt raised his voice.

"He doesn't! He didn't. It's nothing."

"Bullshit, Kurt! Who did this to you?" Blaine's heart raced in his chest. He had seen marks like that before. His whole body was covered in them; some fresh from the night before, and to think that someone had done the same to Kurt was infuriating.

"Blaine. It's nothing, and I don't want to offend you." The two of them were silent for a moment. Tension hung in the air like a thick blanket, each boys chest rose evenly as they stood opposite each other. Blaine stood behind the sofa, and Kurt in front.

"Offend me?" Did he know about Blaine's dad? Why hadn't he said anything?

"It's complicated." Kurt was avoiding an answer. Blaine kept eye contact as he walked to where the taller was standing. He advanced closer, voice cracking slightly.

"Not good enough."

"Well. You two are friends, and-"

"_You're_ my closest friend." Blaine reached out and grabbed both of his biceps, "Kurt. Please."

"…It was Karofsky." He let go. Karofsky was responsible for this? Of course he was. Blaine should have known that he wouldn't honor his part of their bargain. He was too evil. Just like his father.

"David?"

"Yes, Blaine, it was Dave. I know it looks bad, but it really isn't. I just hit the locker weird, okay."

"I can't believe... Just so you know David and I are not even remotely friends. I… When did this happen?"

"Blaine, I can take care of myself."

"Fine, I'll back off, but you really shouldn't let him treat you like that."

"It's not that simple."

"Yeah… I know."

How silly this was. Blaine giving advice that he couldn't even take. It was different though. He deserved the fists, and the slurs. He deserved the hatred. Kurt didn't. Kurt was stronger than he was. He was… well, he was Kurt. He could change a whole room with one look! Everything Blaine had done to protect them had backfired. He truly was a coward. He hadn't come out so that what? So that Kurt could take the abuse? No. This had to change. He sure as hell wasn't going to go through with his side of the deal if Karofsky wasn't doing anything on his part. What a fool he was.

"Blaine. Hey, it's okay. I'm fine. See? Now let's practice before it gets dark, you said you had to be home for dinner and it's already 5."

"I'm not going to forget about this." He tore his gaze from Kurt to focus on the keys, "For now we can just run through the lyrics, and maybe tomorrow we can start on the music?"

Kurt responded in a whisper, "Yeah. Tomorrow."


	13. All Hallows Eve

**NOTE:** 14's on it's way :] Just wanted to re-edit a little bit so it would read smoother. Also, I'm moving this story to Livejournal too, in order to have all my writing in the same place. My tumblr is gummybears231 and so is my LJ account, so you can find me there!

* * *

><p>Kurt's 'tomorrow' breezed by in what felt like minutes. Minutes were really hours and hours were really days. Time spent, hazel eyes meeting blue, confirmed Blaine's natural feeling of home in Kurt's presence. By the time the competition rolled around, their performance had been perfected. Blaine even had Kurt playing an elementary styled version of 'Heart and Soul' by the time they were to compete. Blaine would later admit he had chosen it for purpose of siting by Kurt's side.<p>

Unfortunately, to everyone's surprise Quinn and Sam were announced the winners of the competition, but Blaine cut his losses. He had spent more time than he could have ever imagined with Kurt in the process, and they were very quickly becoming best friends. Which Quinn sure… held over his head _lightly_…

It had been revealed right after their break up that Quinn had been getting some action from Sam on the side, and to be honest Blaine was relieved, but on occasion…. On days like today…tonight, really, Blaine was using it as an excuse.

An excuse to get drunk.

Incredibly, utterly, and shamelessly wasted.

Because one, Kurt sang beautifully and deserved that dinner more than _Quinn_ and two, because it was another night he could use to forget his life. Every once in a while he'd pat the back of his skinny jeans to make sure his notebook was still there, but other than that he was incapable of doing much else… and he didn't care.

Not. One. Bit.

* * *

><p>"'Sup babycakes?"<p>

Santana arrived about an hour after Kurt had. He could hear the thumps from the music coming from Rachel's basement, but he didn't have the confidence to go down yet. Instead, he fit himself into a space on the steps, over thinking how to interact with Blaine and wondering if the other would like his last minute choice in attire. Hopefully Rachel would go off on a one-woman show and steal all the attention. _Really, Kurt? Remind yourself you thought that when competitions roll around._

"Jeez Hummel, you look how I felt when I found out Snooks was pregnant."

Kurt lifted his face from his hands, and stared questioningly at the Latina girl in front of him, "Revolted?"

"…Ecstatic," she rolled her eyes, "and I was being sarcastic." Santana took a place next to Kurt on the stairs, and draped an arm over his shoulders. "Have you seen your lover boy recently? He's been avoiding me like the plague, and I wanted to tell him she said yes, so that… Kurt?"

"Stop it."

With a frown, Santana removed her arms and stood up with purpose. "What crawled up your ass and died? I'm trying to be kind to you. _KIND," _she added an emphasis on the 'D'. "It's a gift, you're welcome."

Kurt stood up too. "People can get hurt over things like this, Santana. Words spread quickly… and the last thing I want is for Blaine to get hurt over some stupid, made up, crush."

"Right. Sure you're talking about _Blaine_?"

He hated when Santana looked at him like that. She only did it when she knew she was right, and ignoring the heat spreading to his face his insides were telling him to reconsider what she had to say. Kurt Hummel had no words. Instead, he glared.

"I know he's into you babe. Just give him time, he'll come around."

"Hmm."

"Well. If you _do_ see him tell him that I have good news, okay? Hey Brit…!" She disappeared as quickly as she had greeted him. It was time to face his demons. One way or another he'd run into Blaine tonight. Why not just get the embarrassment over with? Kurt hoped to whatever was out there that Blaine wouldn't be able to see past his wall tonight. He had to hold off just a little longer.

Give him time, like Santana said.

If Blaine wasn't ready to be himself, how could they be themselves together? If they even _got_ together…

* * *

><p>Blaine straightened out the sleeves to his dark blue sweater, eyed the white button up he was wearing underneath, and took another swig from his fifth beer. Drunk as he was, he was still behind most of the members of New Directions, and he was certain his tiny frame could take the abuse. Just for tonight.<p>

Blaine slipped away from the party, sipping his beer while he turned the corner to read his texts. He had four new messages, all from his father. He had sworn to himself earlier that he wasn't going to have any part in that tonight. Blaine had told his dad that he was going out with Quinn's family and that'd he be back late. What else did that bastard need to know? His cover had included sufficient enough information. Blaine switched his phone off, stepped around the wall, and stiffened when he heard his name called from behind.

He gripped the glass bottle in his hand tighter, and spun around. A smile instantly overran his face as he watched the other with complete affection.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Blaine!" Kurt stopped momentarily to survey the other. Blaine stood before him disheveled, eyes half lidded, with a goofy grin on his face. Well, Kurt definitely didn't have anything to worry about. If anyone had to be careful tonight, it was probably going to be Blaine, not him. <em>Dork<em>.

"Kurt! Hey! I've been looking for you!"

Had he really?

Blaine stumbled a bit, but after gaining his bearings he was closing himself in on Kurt, engulfing him in a giant aggressive hug. "Here, take this. Courtesy of moi, prepared 'specially for you." Blaine poked Kurt in the chest; a gentle reminder of how close the both of them had grown in such a short amount of time.

He let out a tiny laugh, and eyed Blaine's drink. It was half full, and clearly not prepared especially for him. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, not smiling while Blaine waited wide-eyed and expecting in front of him. "Finn and I are designated drivers for the night, but um. Thanks. Maybe I should take that from you anyways? It seems like you've had enough for now."

"'Kay. Anything for you… I'm really glad you're here now." Blaine shoved his beer into Kurt's hands, came within a foot of his face, grinned, and skipped off to join Rachel in a duet of 'Don't You Want Me Baby.' The other seemed to be fitting in nicely now. Provided, he _was_ trashed…

A breathy sigh escaped Kurt's lips. It was sad and kind of horrible to think, but he really liked drunk Blaine. If he could be this happy at school, during glee club, or when they hung out at his house it'd be easier to read him. Rachel winked from the stage as the lights dimmed and the 80s synth kicked in. He rolled his eyes and raised Blaine's beer in a mock salute.

* * *

><p>After his duet with Rachel, Blaine realized he hadn't entirely remembered performing. He remembered this, of course, while dancing wildly in the corner of Rachel's basement, right next to the stage. It was definitely time to start sobering up, and get a grip on reality. What time was it anyway?<p>

His feet started walking towards the nearest couch before he could give the proper command, but instead of arriving at his intended destination he ended up running straight into Finn's back and slamming hard into the ground. Just as he had when he discovered David attended McKinley too.

"Whoa man, you okay?"

_Yes. Yes. Okaayyy. _Blaine smiled and reached up to put his left arm around Finn's shoulder. Kurt was there too. _Thanks, feet! _It was comical because Blaine could barely reach, and the way he squinted his eyes as he scanned Finn up and down didn't do much to hide the fact that he played for another team. Kurt's team, if he were being specific.

"It's so cool that you and Kurt are brothers. Right? Like, brothers! Wow." _Finn's kind of hot. He's no Kurt, but he's got a nice body and he's so tall... _"You're so tall." _Shit. Too drunk. _Blaine stuttered for a moment before trailing off and looking down at the floor. Finn was looking at Kurt weird, and he felt like the whole room was staring… even though most of the other kids were preoccupied. How embarrassing.

"You having fun Blaine?"

_Maybe no one noticed?_

"Yeah." He breathed, "This is the best party ever!"

"Why don't we go sit down for a little while?" Blaine nodded. Kurt glanced at Finn who seemed happy to be rid of whatever was going on, and took Blaine into his arms. It felt nice there. Warm. It was everything Blaine thought it would be like. He had to keep reminding himself. Safe. Kurt was safe. But was everyone else?

To be honest, he was beginning to think they were. Regardless, tonight it didn't matter. Quinn and Sam were off at Breadstix, everyone else was drunk out of their minds, and so help him god Blaine was going to get as much of Kurt as he could tonight before reality ruined everything again.

Soon the two of them were sinking into the couch. Blaine's eyes felt heavy, and after checking to make sure his notebook was still tucked safely in his pocket he was leaning his body into Kurt's chest. Nuzzling the soft fabric and skin so lightly pressed against his cheek. Every time he felt his head slip, Kurt's hand held him steady, and the even rise and fall of the others lungs lulled Blaine into a sense of security. He had literally, never felt better, and what was that? Someone was shaking him.

"'sm good."

"What?"

"You smell good."

"Blaine?"

"Oh god," Blaine shot up rubbing at his eyes, "nothing. Sorry."

How long had he been like that? Had he fallen asleep?

"They're all going to the living room to play truth or dare. Did you want to go, or should we stay here?"

_They. _

_We._

Blaine took a second to realize he had just passed out on Kurt… arms around his waist and everything. That couldn't have been subtle.

* * *

><p>So it turns out, Kurt had been right about Blaine letting loose tonight. The way Santana snickered from across the room as Blaine accidentally hit on Finn made him nervous and excited.<p>

"Why don't we go sit down for a little while?"

Kurt waited for Blaine to consent and dragged him over to the nearest sofa. He wasn't expecting Blaine to wrap himself around his waist and nuzzle into his chest. He didn't mind it though. Kurt had been dying to feel some kind of contact from him, and he took the next hour and a half of a passed out Blaine to revel in the small breaths and mumbles coming from the crumpled mess draped over him.

"Jesus, Hummel, I said to give him _time_ not a roofie."

Kurt couldn't help it. Normally he would shoot back a witty retort, but Blaine really did look like he had been drugged. His mouth was even hanging open. Kurt bit back a giggle, and toyed with Blaine's curls. "It does look like that, doesn't it?"

"We're playing a game of truth or dare, if you and Yoda want to join we'll be in the living room okay?"

"Alright, I'll wake him up. Be there in a sec."

After many attempts at waking Blaine up, Kurt had settled on the oldest method in the book. Violent shaking. It was the absolute funniest thing he had ever seen. He practically snorted as Blaine finally came to, only to reveal that he thought Kurt smelled good… and before Kurt had time to go red Blaine was bolting upright remembering where he was. At least he looked sober now.

"They're all going to the living room to play truth or dare. Did you want to go, or should we stay here?"

"Um. We should. We should probably go. Thanks for uh," Blaine scratched lazily at the back of his head, "letting me… pass out or whatever. Sorry about that…"

"It's fine. It hasn't been too long," he lied, "and no one's really been paying attention… so. You're welcome."

_Give him time, Kurt. _

_Give him time._

* * *

><p>"Truth or dare?"<p>

Blaine had sat through Finn making horse noises, Brittany free styling about cats, Puck making out with Tina, Mike confessing his _love_ for Tina, and Kurt getting a strip tease from Mercedes. Now that things were starting to get sexual his cheeks found themselves rosy and flushed. Now it was his turn, and Santana was looking at him like a predator willing to pounce at any moment.

"How about… truth?

"Aw, come on, Anderson. Truth is boring. Live a little."

"San." He said pleadingly.

"So, you want a dare right?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Nope. I want to see that gorgeous body of yours." Santana subtly glanced at Kurt. So did Rachel and Mercedes, but Blaine was too stuck deciphering what she had meant to realize. "Let's see. I dare you to switch shirts with-"

"-Puck!" Rachel interrupted, sloppily falling out of Finn's lap and haphazardly landing on Mercedes.

Mercedes helped return Rachel to her original position, "You're a hot damned mess."

"Rachel! It's _my _turn, I get to choose whose abs we see thank you very much." She crossed her arms to briefly consider as Puck and Blaine stared one another down. "Fine. Good idea. Puck it is! Go at it boys."

Blaine stayed quiet.

"You wrinkle my shirt and you're a dead man, Anderson."

They moved to the center of the circle, shrugging off the awkwardness as they 'stripped' for the members New Directions.

"Right."

Blaine reached over his back to lift at his shirt, and half way through removal froze as their laughs and catcalls turned to gasps… silence… and murmurs. His heart started thrumming and that bubbly feeling rose from his stomach to his throat shooting adrenaline straight to his head.

The realization of what he had just done… just… _shown_ to everyone pressed into the back of his mind like a gun with a finger threatening immediate freedom.

Puck broke the awkward barrier of whispers and silence, "Dude…"

"I need a cigarette. Be right back."

He nearly ran from the room, cursing himself as he closed the sliding glass door, and slammed back against the brick wall. He didn't notice he had been followed, so he listened to the sounds coming from where he had just left. Straining to hear his name. Waiting to hear how pathetic they thought he was… but it didn't come.

Instead, _"I dare Santana to kiss Brittany!"_ escaped through the closed door and he closed his eyes to wish it would all go away. Just once.

"Mind if I join you?"

* * *

><p>Kurt stood patiently at the porch entrance waiting for a response.<p>

"No."

"No as in you don't mind, or no get away from me you jerk?" Sarcasm was one of Kurt's finest gifts aside from his voice, and he was glad he could make Blaine smile by using it.

"No as in shut up. Come here."

Kurt joined him against the wall as Blaine shakily lit a cigarette. He threw it on the ground before taking a puff. They stood for a long time before Kurt stopped looking at the stars and broke the silence. "Are they permanently like that, or are you constantly in a state of deep thought?"

"Wh- what?" Blaine replied, lost in the expanse of Kurt's eyes.

"Your eyebrows." He returned with a smile.

"I-Uh… deep thoughts I guess."

"You know, for someone with so many secrets, you sure do a bad job at hiding them all…."

Blaine lifted his palm and placed it on the back of his neck. Head nodded down in thought, and burst out laughing. "Am I that obvious?"

"Very." Kurt couldn't tell if he should be laughing too. He didn't want to bring up the bruises he had just seen, but Blaine had more secrets than he was aware of and he wasn't sure which he was addressing right now.

"I just-you're so. I mean… you're so pretty."

Blaine wasn't speaking about the bruises. This time Kurt did laugh. He wasn't sure how to take the compliment and obvious display of Blaine's sexuality, so he deflected. "How much have you had to drink, Blaine?"

There was a long pause, hazel burning into blue, as Blaine watched Kurt very carefully.

"Kurt…"

Blaine reached out and pulled Kurt towards him, hands on hips, chest to chest. He clapsed his hands tighter around Kurt's waist, and Kurt could barely focus his vision before the two of them were breathing into one another's lips. They shouldn't be doing this. Blaine needed time. He wasn't ready. Was he ready? Was _he_ ready? _This is happening. This is happening. _Kurt studied the contour of Blaine's lips. How they met his nose, opened up to his tongue…

The shorter reached up on his tiptoes and closed the gap, placing a small questioning kiss to the corner of Kurt's mouth.

It was simple, soft… vulnerable.

Kurt reached up to cup Blaine's jaw in his hand, and pulled him slowly closer so that their mouths barely touched. "Blaine…" He trailed off to continue their kissing, running his hands through Blaine's curls appropriately until their bodies were pressed tight against the wall. Slow, long, languid kisses took charge over the chaste ones, and Kurt couldn't even process what was happening until Blaine let out a quiet moan. _What happened to giving him time?_ _What happened to respecting his boundaries?_ He ignored his subconscious, deepened the kiss once more, and tried to stop his chest from exploding.

* * *

><p>He wasn't aware of many things. He knew that right now, he was kissing a boy. A boy he had been trying to stay away from for weeks. A boy he had a huge, embarrassing, crush on. A boy, Kurt Hummel, who had captivated him since the moment they first "met" in McKinley's cafeteria…<p>

He wasn't aware he was being watched by numerous sets of disbelieving eyes. He wasn't aware of the time. Blaine barely knew where he was he was so strung out on the ecstasy of Kurt's lips on his, but as they pulled apart, breathless, forehead to forehead reality hit him.

Both Blaine and Kurt recognized the silence at the same time. When they turned to look inside at the party, they found that instead the party was looking at them. Santana tapped on the glass. "Get it, Hummel! Yoda!"

"Oh god, _Santana_." Kurt mumbled and buried himself into Blaine's neck. "I'm so sorry."

"No. No, I." Blaine openly laughed. "It's…" What was it? This feeling… It was new. For the first time in his life, Blaine felt completely and utterly accepted. This feeling. He felt… he felt fine. "It's fine. Would you… Um." Blaine awkwardly wiggled his neck so that Kurt would stand up to meet his gaze.

"Hm?"

"Would you kiss me again?"


	14. Eyes Wide Open

Kurt stood at his locker with his back turned to the world. Sometimes he liked to stand like this and just breathe, face free from the judgment of his fellow students. Here he could be 'Kurt.' He didn't have to remind himself why he was better than everyone in the room. It was nice, and it was safe, the cool air trapped between the foot length space of metal felt good rushing out into his face-

"I want to be with you."

The sentence came out of nowhere. It was mumbled, but Kurt could recognize the voice instantly. Honestly, it was barely a whisper, and he hadn't been expecting it.

He turned around fast, heart beating in his chest, just to make sure curls were waiting there and not- _No, don't spoil this._

But before he can find the hazel, he is surprised with a kiss. It was a small gesture, but very public, and because Kurt was caught off guard he gasped in an attempt to escape it.

He didn't mean for it to reflect his feelings for Blaine- it actually had nothing to do with him, it just caught him off guard, and-

A look of immeasurable guilt flashed across his face. Before Kurt could fix it Blaine had begun closing himself off.

"I'm sorry-"

The small figure ran his fingers through his hair, sporting a frown. He wiped at his mouth, almost as if wiping away unspoken words.

"Don't." He managed to squeak. Kurt looked to the hallway as he waited to find something to say, the gap of silence between them was powerful, and he came up with nothing.

"Don't?" Kurt had told himself all night to be more realistic about their situation. Now that they were both sober and standing in the _hallways _of McKinley High, PDA didn't seem like something smart to do.

_Shit_, Blaine had just _kissed_ him in the hallways of McKinley. Kurt needed to repeat it four times before he understood the gesture. He wanted to give himself into it so badly, and the doubt radiating from those pleading yellow-brown eyes tore him apart inside. What was Blaine thinking just now?

The reality of their actions from the other night really started to sink in then. The possible implications shattering the euphoria from their first kiss, and now all Kurt could bring himself to feel was fear.

"Don't."

Clearly hurting, Blaine took interest in his feet. He doesn't understand, Kurt thinks, _he doesn't know. _Kurt feels a flare of panic take over his body. All he wanted to do was tell Blaine that kisses were fine. He likes kisses. Especially kisses from Blaine… but in the halls of McKinley?

He hadn't been expecting that!

He didn't realize it was _Blaine_. Couldn't he see that? Searching for something, _anything_, in Blaine's expression was proving useless. It wasn't his fault. He didn't _know_, and it wasn't that Kurt didn't want to kiss him; it was because of- his hand went to his forehead.

It was all because of Dave.

Blaine's unexpected kiss had hit his lips, and his stupid mind had screamed, 'Karofsky!'

Kurt could still feel the roughness of his chapped lips pressed harshly against the contours of his own mouth. He hadn't (and won't, he thinks) forgotten that breach of personal space. His neck hadn't forgotten either. The tight grip of Karofsky's sweaty hands could still be felt. Trace pulsating squeezes, forcing Kurt's head still under heavy sweaty palms.

That _stupid_ kiss...

And what was it all for? Kurt wanted to laugh at it all, but he couldn't. He just, hadn't been expecting it. Then, _and _now, except now anyone within a ten-foot radius could see how somber Blaine was feeling.

Everything felt wrong, all at once.

What made it worse was that Blaine sensed it too, because what he had attempted as a simple positive gesture had not only been rejected publicly, but also frozen Kurt in shock.

Frantically, Blaine searched the other's eyes for an explanation, and Kurt felt like he was watching all of this happen outside his body. He'd missed his chance. Why couldn't he just explain himself and tell Blaine what Dave had done?

Wordlessly, Kurt reached for Blaine's hand, tilting his head in disappointment upon denial. Blaine clearly hadn't thought he was going to be rejected so harshly.

"… Right. Okay." Blaine nodded, "I get it."

Kurt flashed back to images of Blaine's fingers on keys. He remembered the other's clumsy introduction, and how beautifully his voice carried through the choir room during his audition for glee club.

He was wearing the same expression now that he'd been wearing then, a look of defeat. Feeling his cheeks go hot, again Kurt attempted to speak, but Blaine's eyes darkened in the same instant and all Kurt wanted to do was run.

He wanted to run, fast, back to his comforter and back to his pillows and picture of his mother, and all Kurt wanted to do was scream!

"I should get to class."

_Tell him! _

He couldn't, and he couldn't figure out why he didn't. All Kurt knew in that moment was that he should have, and when he walked away eyes downcast and void of emotion, he found an easier way to express himself.

_To Blaine: I'm sorry. I swear it wasn't anything you did. I like you a lot, and I want to be with you too. We'll talk about it, I promise, okay?_

_To Kurt: …okay._

The talk came two periods after. Blaine stood in front short and determined, body close to Kurt's, calmly demanding an explanation.

"-No, it's not you! I was just thinking about…." Kurt shook his head in order to bring his attention back to Blaine. Images of Karofsky had been toying with his emotions since their 'incident' that morning, and before he could speak again Blaine's strained voice stunned him into silence.

"I should have known this would happen."

It was unlike Blaine to be this frustrated with him, and suddenly Kurt found himself feeling exposed. The other's hands were balled tight into fists, knuckles protruding in rough angles, as he tried to place the right words in his mouth, and failed.

"What? I'm serious. It's not anything you did. I-" _I thought you were Karofsky. _How could he possibly tell Blaine that? They were sharing more with each other these days, and Blaine had told him that he and Karofsky weren't friends ('remotely friends' if Kurt remembered correctly) but as far as Kurt knew Blaine and Karofsky had a secret… _something _going on, and if Kurt told Blaine about the kiss- "People will _know_, are you sure you're ready for that?"

Bitter laughter echoed off the lockers around them, and Blaine's body relieved some tension as he lifted his shirt for Kurt once more in one swift motion.

And just like before, Kurt gasped.

"You know. At first, I thought you were a prince. Some _fucking_ pretty thing that couldn't do anything wrong but you know what? We're not so different you and I. I'm finally ready to be myself, and you're shooting me down because what? You're afraid? Ashamed of me? Of being gay? Kurt. _Every_ _morning_ I wake up, and you're there. Making me a better person, telling me I can make it through the day and- and now, God." Blaine laughed again throwing his hands in the air with defeat, "We're the same."

Kurt moved to look away from the others stomach, but Blaine had anticipated the movement. He gently moved his free hand to grasp Kurt's cheek. "I can't fight my own battles either. Take a good look, Kurt, because this here represents a life of denial, and I'm not ashamed anymore-"

"-Blaine I'm not ashamed of my sexuality."

"But your afraid people will know about us? Look, I won't stand for that and you shouldn't either. You said that mark on your shoulder was no big deal, but _it is_ Kurt. You're letting them do this to you. Who cares what they think? I care about you. You're my best friend, my only friend, even more than that and-"

"He kissed me."

Kurt's eyes widened at his surprise confession. He couldn't take his eyes off of Blaine's stomach, and although spoken feather light, his words felt amplified. They hung thick in the air, swirling around the two of them and disappearing back into Kurt's mouth as he waited for Blaine's reaction.

Blaine's stomach was covered in bruises, almost permanently yellowed from who knows what, and he repeated Blaine's words over and over trying to derive a meaning. _I can't fight my own battles either._ Kurt knew what battles he needed to fight, but why couldn't Blaine fight his?

Was this Blaine's relationship with Karofsky? Was that why he was so adamant about Kurt saying something about his shoulder? There was no one else he could think of that would do something so horrible, and now it was all starting to make sense. Kurt kicked himself for assuming they were ever interested in one another.

"_Who_ kissed you?"

"Blaine-"

"-Who kissed you, Kurt?"

"_Who_ did that to your stomach?"

"We're not subject changing."

Kurt let out a breath, "Dave."

Blaine groaned, a frustrated cracked groan, and smashed his palm into the pocket of lockers behind Kurt, trapping him between his arm and his torso in the process. "Dave? David Karofsky? Jesus." He was taking it worse than Kurt had expected. "Is that when he shoved you?"

"No, well yes. He kissed me, but not at the same time as- it wasn't recent, but he kissed me. And when you surprised me today I thought it was him again. God, please don't be mad at me. I shouldn't have been thinking about him, about _that _when we-"

"-That bastard. I'm going to-"

"It's fine."

"You're kidding. Nothing's fine about that." Blaine slid his arms down the metal and wrapped them around Kurt's waist possessively. This time Kurt didn't recoil at his touch, but instead welcomed him close and returned the gesture. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

><p>"Why would <em>you<em> have to be sorry about that? It's not your fault that Karofsky's a Neanderthal."

"It is my fault."

"Blaine."

"I should have dealt with that asshole when I had the chance."

Kurt moved his arms up Blaine's back and held him in closer. The shorter willed himself to never forget the feeling of Kurt's palms on his back. Soon enough tears were forming, and fuck Blaine was so tired of crying. The confessions flew out of his mouth in tandem, and although he knew Kurt wouldn't process half of what he was about to say he had to say it.

"You, all of you guys, have no idea. You just... God I'm sorry. I just-"

"-Blaine it's okay, shh."

"-I'm all kinds of fucked up, okay? My whole head is just one big fucking mess, and you make everything better. When I'm around you, I feel like a million bucks. You… you _move_ me, Kurt, and the thought of someone scaring you like that makes me sick."

Disgusted was a better word. David had kissed Kurt? After all those years of tormenting Blaine for being gay he fucking _kissed _Kurt? Homophobic, football playing, douche bag David Karofsky _kissed _Kurt... had forced his ugly letterman lips and hands on Blaine's perfect thing.

He was just like his father, an unwarranted bully.

"Hey. Look at me. I'm okay. I swear to God, I'm fine…. He'll never do it again. He was expelled for it once already, and he hasn't done anything _that_ bad since… but what about you? Are _you_ okay? Did he do that to you?"

Blaine winced as Kurt stroked his fingers over the aged bruises, stopping his right hand on Blaine's left hip to try to even out his breathing.

"Kurt, I need to tell you something."

"Okay."

Blaine backed up so that Kurt could see his face. He wanted to make absolute sure that Kurt understood his connection to David. They weren't friends. They had _never _been friends. Should he tell Kurt about their arrangement? He wanted to, but the fear of Kurt not in his life stomped that ambition out quickly. "I know him."

"Blaine everyone knows Dave, he's been the top dog of this school since he transferred here."

"No. I mean. I _know_ him. From before McKinley… he went one of my old schools. Freshman year. Remember how I told you some guys jumped me and my date outside our school dance?"

"Yes."

"Well. It was him. By then he had most of the school calling me 'fag boy' and I just wanted everything to change so badly. I used to be like you, proud, and I figured if I asked another guy to the dance it would show everyone that I didn't care about the names and the shoves but… and now he's here, and he's kissing you, and I tried-"

Blaine didn't get to finish. Instead he was ripped out of Kurt's grip, breath hitching abruptly because of the duo paying them a visit. Quinn and Karofsky, uniformed in white and red. Quinn with her arms crossed and condescending smirk, and David big and contrasted next to her.

"-Sup ladies?" It was the first time he had addressed Blaine as 'lady' and he spared an anxious look at Quinn to confirm his suspicions. They were confirmed. Karofksy filled Blaine's ears with a deep dangerous laugh. Kurt tried to move closer to Blaine, but they were both separated again by a pair of strong, unwanted, hands. "What are you doing talking to the fag, Anderson?"

_He knows. _Blaine couldn't speak. Memories were too fervent between them to even spit out an insult. Instead, Kurt took the reigns, finally understanding Blaine's hesitation. "It's Glee business, Karofsky. Leave us alone."

"Aw, it squeaks! What's that, mouse? Couldn't hear you over the rainbows spilling out of your mouth." Quinn snickered behind Karofsky.

"Dave, quit it." Blaine interjected; stepping in front of Kurt, closer to the taller's face.

"Quit it? Isn't that what _you're_ trying to do? Wasn't that the whole reason I've been staying away from fairy dust all this time while you suck his cock?" Dave looked to Quinn for another laugh, and was rewarded with her approving hand on his shoulder.

"Dave, I'm serious, stop."

This was not how he wanted Kurt to find out. This time, Blaine had nothing. He had nothing to use for leverage, and he was about to lose everything. Everything including his safety because now everyone was going to know he was gay. _Fight your battles, Blaine._ Blaine charged at the football player, and Quinn screamed stepping back to avoid association with the conflict.

Blaine didn't get far, though. His tiny frame soon found itself against the wall, pinned under Karofsky's scowl, scowling back.

"Dave if you don't put him down I'll tell Mr. Figgins what you did to him!"

"Yeah?" He was spitting on Blaine he was so close, and for a second Blaine thought David was going to kiss him too. "…and what exactly have I done to _Blaine_?"

"Sorry, Blaine, I should have let you tell me, but I figured it out." Kurt stepped carefully to Blaine's side, moving Karofsky back a little in the process, and lifted the fabric of his shirt. It practically burned him from contact as it slid up his waist, and of _all_ times for Kurt to expose how weak he was it had to be now!

"I'm impressed Blaine. You didn't strike me as a back up plan kind of guy. Those marks are lovely, but sorry Hummel… not mine." Karofsky squeezed him tighter, and forced him to meet Kurt's eye. "Don't you think lady boy deserves to know what's _really_ been going on, Anderson?"

"It's nothing, Kurt. Don't listen to him," Blaine cried out.

"Oh it's _something_. Didn't little Blaine tell you about his big plans for glee club?"

Kurt, not wanting to choose sides but clearly interested in what David was saying, looked Blaine straight in the eyes. "What is he talking about?"

"Nothing. Let me go, David."

"I know it was part of your plan to seduce the twink, but seeing you let him touch you like _that_? Disgusting. I didn't think that when you proposed to ruin the club from within, you'd actually stoop to his level, bud."

Kurt's eyes went wide with panic. Blaine's insides were producing a slew of excuses, trying to punch their way out his throat, but when he opened his mouth the silence suffocated them in. He was never good with words, was he? "I'm not- I didn't-"

"He's an excellent actor, isn't he? I'd want to be kicked out of gay club too, but really Blaine… fags belong in clubs like that, and I'm getting the vibe that you're an even bigger one than Hummel. Begging him to touch you. Bet you like taking it in the ass-"

"You're lying."

Both David and Blaine looked at Kurt with the same unguarded expression. He hadn't been lying. Did Kurt know that? Kurt was still standing by Blaine's side, even at the risk of being completely wrong. He really was everything Blaine had imagined he'd be.

"Pathetic, both of you. Have a nice life as _homos,_ losers." Karofsky cut himself short, and spun around to meet Quinn's frown. They sauntered off down the halls just in time for a group of teacher to walk by. _Of course, _Blaine thought,_ the teachers would come by after everything had finished._

"What Karofsky said… was that true?"

Blaine took a moment to gather himself, and instead of answering he focused on breathing.

"Tell me!" Kurt raised his voice, "Is that true? You convinced me to like you so that you could break me, and then what? Get kicked out of Glee club?"

"Kurt-"

"You know, it takes more than heartbreak to destroy who I am. I like being different, Blaine; it's the best part about me… It's the best part of you too, and I guess we were both right this time. You're not ready to fight this battle, and you know what… maybe I'm not up for it either."

"Kurt!"

He was too late. Kurt was already walking away, head held high and ears deaf to every word that spilled out of Blaine's mouth. Eyes wide open, Blaine decided his life –although drastically changing- needed one more resolution… and it wasn't going to be easy, but if he was going to fight for Kurt… _now _was better than _never._


	15. Dealing With Demons

After days of silence, and barely any contact between the two of them Kurt was _this_ close to driving himself mad. He hadn't seen Blaine at school, Glee Club had already let out for the day, and Kurt was wondering if a happy ending was in the cards anymore.

It hadn't taken him long to figure out that good intentions, although almost indeterminable, _did_ lie behind Blaine's deal with Karofsky, and now that he knew about their past together everything was much clearer. Even if Blaine _had _wanted to be kicked out, he was sure the other's intentions had changed since.

Right?

Why else would he have said 'I want to be with you'?

The only thing that had stopped blue from seeking out hazel was pride. Kurt's was wounded- his dad had always said he was too hardheaded for his own good- but he was hoping Blaine would've at least made an appearance at Glee club today. The silence between them was getting out of hand.

* * *

><p>"So, Blaine. Where should we begin?"<p>

How was it possible for him to feel so uncomfortable in a room designed to stimulate comfort? Before he could start scrutinizing himself, he remembered the promise he made to himself: It was time to face his demons. Could he do that?

Ms. Pillsbury sat expectantly in front of Blaine with her hands folded dormant on her lap. Her doe eyes were wide, patiently waiting for Blaine to respond. It was obvious to Blaine that she was taking in his new appearance.

He had hidden his clothing amongst the rubbish of his closet, and last night he had some serious digging to do. After skipping school to avoid conversation with Kurt, he decided he wasn't running from his past anymore. He was going to finally be _Blaine. _Not a new version, and not necessarily an old one, just _Blaine. _The way he was supposed to be.

"I don't know, you tell me."

Blaine crossed his arms against his cardigan, closing himself off from her physically, and calculated what his next move should be. His bowtie felt foreign tied snugly around his neck, and although he found comfort in the material safety it provided him he was still afraid. Afraid to do what he knew had to come next. _Jeez, _were his sweaters _always_ this itchy?

"Well, maybe first it's best to tell you that everything here is confidential. Unless," she rushed, "Unless, I suspect you are in any kind of danger from anyone or to both yourself and others."

He accidentally laughed. Blaine had been avoiding this appointment for that very reason. He had hoped Mr. Shue had forgotten about the second half of their compromise, but apparently he was misguided in his assumption.

What made his teacher recall their deal so suddenly, he didn't know, but as soon as Blaine arrived at glee rehearsal today; he was turned away and led to the guidance counselor's office_._ He was really hoping to run into Kurt and display his obvious efforts of transformation, but that was looking hopeless.

Three days with no contact, and Blaine felt like his whole world was crumbling in on him. He'd even taken the time to gel down his hair, for old times sake.

How was this meeting supposed to benefit him if he couldn't talk about anything? It's not like he was acting out earlier in the year because of something petty like grades. His self internalized homophobia and abusive father could take the blame for _that_.

"Hmm." He nodded; drawing out the sound as if it were the most interesting thing he'd ever heard.

Miss Pillsbury cleared her throat. "Is there anything about school you'd like to talk about? Like Glee club? Want to start there?"

"There isn't really anything to say." he monotoned, "We sing, we dance."

"Everything's working out for you then?" She smiled, breaking eye contact to shuffle a small pile of pamphlets beside her computer.

"Yeah." He lied.

"That's great, Glee club has always been a place of acceptance. I'm glad Will gave you this ultimatum."

Blaine bit his lip, forcing a smile. "Yep."

They sat in silence for a moment before he built up the confidence to continue. He'd promised to make an effort, and he was going to give one. _For Kurt, _he thought. A couple weeks ago that would have been out of the question, but today Blaine Anderson was coming clean.

No more hiding. "This place is 100% confidential, right?" God, he was nervous. He itched at his arm, cursing his choice in attire.

"Oh! Yes. Yes it is. One hundred percent. Unless-"

"Unless someone harms me or whatever, yeah. Got it."

"Yes. Okay." She reached across the desk enthusiastically and sanitized her hands, as if she were cleansing herself for the impending conversation. "What's up?"

"I like Glee, I do, but… It's the furthest thing from cool, and I like it-I swear. I like all of them," his cheeks went red at the thought of kissing Kurt, "but my dad says it's, uh, useless, and I don't know-" He put a hand over his wrist, pressing into the bruises from the previous night as a reminder to carry on. He had to end the silence, metaphorical _and _literal.

"Blaine?" She was studying his face hard, "You seem like a wonderful kid. Will tells me you're excelling well in Glee Club, you're a straight A student- If it makes you happy, then why would you deny yourself the opportunity to take part?"

"Yeah well, lots of things make me happy." He forced himself to meet her eyes. "Being _gay_ makes me happy, but that's not something I should take part in. I'm sick." He cracked, "I'm _defected_," closing his eyes he barely whispered, "I don't think you'd understand."

He pressed into the bruises once more. Perhaps he had gone to far. He was supposed to come here to talk about positive things, his efforts to change, not _this. _Whatever 'this' was.

Miss Pillsbury looked like she had been hit with a bat. "Oh."

"Yeah." Blaine tried to run his fingers through his hair, an old habit, but cursed as his fingers stuck to the gel plastered there.

"Okay. Okay," she paused looking for the right choice of words. "Blaine," She extended a hand for comfort but he didn't take it, "You shouldn't feel the need to, erm, hide that. Especially in Glee club."

Blaine rolled his eyes, knowing the truth of her statement all to well.

"Sexual orientation is not a sickness, sweetie. I understand if you're not ready to talk about something like this, it can be a struggle discovering who you are-"

Blaine snapped. He _wasn't_ discovering who he was; He'd been gay since forever. He'd just gone so long without being able to acknowledge it. He felt bad for yelling, but he couldn't help it. Miss Pillsbury was rambling, and he just wanted her to shut up. "Stop! Listen, I'm not just figuring this out. It's nothing new." He dug his fingers harder into his wrist, willing himself to tone it down. _Blaine, shut up._ "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry."

"Blaine, it's okay to be different." She knew she was losing him. The energy in the room had shifted dramatically. He caught her staring at his wrist, held beneath his iron grip. "Do you think that perhaps, we could talk about things at home?"

"L-like what?"

"Do your parents know?"

"Yes." How could he change the subject? He needed to change the subject. His insides rolled.

"You don't have to tell me anything, if it makes you to uncomfortable, okay? I just want to make sure you're alright."

"No, it's- I'm fine. I'm fine." He stared at the carpet, holding his breath. Emma glanced at the door as students shuffled by; oblivious to the secret lives each one of them lived.

"And they've accepted it?"

"My mom's dead," he swallowed, "My dad…"_ Hates me. Beats me. Wishes I were dead. _"He's warming up to it, I think."

"I see."

"He didn't like it much at first." It was the best he could do without lying to her face. Effort to change echoed loudly in his head.

"Was it your father who told you that you were sick?"

Blaine didn't like her anymore. It was her fault he was talking about this. His fingers were white at the knuckle from digging into his skin. He'd found his leeway to change the subject. "You're joking, right?"

"Blaine-"

"I _am_ sick. I'm all kinds of fucked up. Do you live in the same place I do? Because being gay in Ohio is _not _okay. It's the last thing I want to be aside from being here with you right now. I should go."

Miss Pillsbury struggled to backpedal, trying to control the situation before it tailspinned beyond repair. "We had students in similar situations last year-"

"Kurt? Yeah, and did you see what they did to him? What they _do_ to him now. You think I want a slushie in my face every day?" He held back his memories. "You think I want every girl in the school looking at me like I'm a lost cause? _I can't do that again. _I can't do this! Why did I think I could do this?"

"Can't do what Blaine?"

He needed to move, anything, the memories and angry faces were all he could see and he felt like he was about to burst. "Anything! Everything." He gestured to his clothing, "Listen, I'm not sure this was a good idea. I think I should leave." He got up shaking with frustration and bolted out the door. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to-

"Blaine wait! At least take a pamphlet!"

He was out the door before she could reach it across the desk.

She had been right. He hated that she was right. Glee was the perfect place for someone like him, but he wished that it wasn't the only one. Why couldn't he be safe at a football game? Why couldn't he feel at ease in his own school, or even at home? It wasn't fair that the only place he felt wanted was in Kurt's arms, and he didn't even have _that _anymore!

He fidgeted with his bowtie, angry that he thought an outfit could change the way he felt inside.

* * *

><p>McKinley was still buzzing with students as after school clubs and events let out. Kurt had hung back with low expectations of spotting Blaine. He would have missed him too, had he not recognized the shoulder bag slung lazily over his shoulder.<p>

He looked completely different. Hair gelled down, cardigan on, with a matching bowtie fit around his toned neck; he looked like a literal modern day Disney prince. What had brought this change on?

Blaine was rushing out of Miss Pillsbury's office. Kurt looked through the glass to see Emma sitting in silence, her eyes closed, and completely off balance. Kurt was down the corridor before he could even begin shouting Blaine's name.

Blaine had stopped in front of his locker, he was nervously packing up for the day and when Kurt approached him he stopped immediately, his hand frozen mid air clutching one of his notebooks.

They watched one another until Kurt took an extra step forward.

Book in hand, Blaine sank into his locker and violently sobbed. _Holy-_, "Blaine, oh my god." Kurt approached him softly on his left, and placed a hand on his back for comfort, rubbing small patterns into his shoulder to calm him down.

Blaine swung around to face him, tears streaming down his face, "Kurt." He rushed forward and pulled himself into Kurt's chest, crying, repeating Kurt's name incoherently between breaths. _Whoa. _"Blaine, honey, are you okay? Come here."

"Need you. So sorry-"

He was already there, but Kurt needed to assure himself that it was really happening. It wasn't a lie. Karofsky was wrong. Blaine _did _care about him, and Kurt was willing to bet money that he cared about Glee too.

"Lets get to the car, okay? We can talk there." Blaine slowly removed himself from Kurt's arms and nodded. He shook his head to snap out of the trance he was in, and picked up his bag, "Sorry. I-"

"No, stop, no need to be sorry. Let's go, come on."

* * *

><p>The phone had rung endlessly since he fixed his last drink. Wasn't it obvious that no one was home? Why couldn't they call his cellphone?<p>

Mr. Anderson slammed his glass on the counter and sauntered over to the phone. He snapped it up, wondering who even had this number. "Hello?" He said pungently.

"Hello, may I speak with Mr. Anderson?"

"Speaking."

"Father of Blaine Anderson?"

What had that boy done now?

"Yes. What did he do?"

It was probably the school. He always gave this number for emergency contact. Schools had called him so frequently that it was easier to ignore a house phone than a cell phone.

"No, sir. This is Gary Jones with Child Protective Services. Recently, we've received an anonymous tip containing information, which leads us to believe that a home inspection will be necessary. This is just a precautionary notice that the investigation will take place within the next 24hours, and to please be present upon our arrival."

"A home inspection?"

"Yes sir, we've received a complaint and upon opening a case it is within our protocol to order a home investigation."

"Did my boy call you?"

"It's not our policy to disclose that kind of information, sir."

"Come after three."

"Great, we'll see y-"

_Click_

"_**BLAINE!**_"


	16. Dancing With Demons

**NOTE: **Here, have another! Love you guys so much! Thank you for the amazing feedback (I think you'll like this one, heh) Also, the line breaks for POV are screwed up (thanks ff.) so as soon as I can fix them properly it will make more sense

* * *

><p>As soon as they walked through the door, Blaine knew he was in trouble. Kurt squeezed his hand as they entered the empty walkway.<p>

The silence wrapped around them in coils as they took each step in tandem, and when they reached the door to their destination Blaine opened his mouth to speak, only to be met with a polite, soft kiss. Yep, he was _definitely_ in trouble.

Tears forgotten, Blaine dropped his bag to the floor, the thud pounding almost as loud as his heart beneath their feet while hands and lips attached with every step they took.

Blaine was so fucking happy. He could barely kiss Kurt his smile was so big, and he was sure he'd never felt anything like this before. That's why he'd said those things to his dad last night. Why those bruises on his wrists were worth it.

By now they'd made it down the steps, and into Kurt's bedroom. The white walls proved to be much more welcoming than Miss Pillsbury's office, and Blaine buried his face into Kurt's chest as they flopped down into his bed, holding onto one another for dear life.

"Wanna tell me what's going on, now?"

Blaine nodded into Kurt's jacket. They'd spent the drive to Kurt's house quietly preparing for whatever laid ahead. Blaine with his head pushed into the cold of his window, and Kurt worrying his lips between his teeth. They held each other's hands the entire time.

Blaine shifted over, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Remember Halloween?"

* * *

><p>Kurt could hear the happiness in Blaine's voice; he squeezed him closer as a smile spread across his own face. "Of course I remember Halloween."<p>

Was this what Blaine had been worrying about this whole time? Kurt thought of ways to reassure his feelings were reciprocal, and that Blaine had nothing to worry about. Blaine slowed his breathing, and took a deep breath. "I went home with a hickey on my neck."

Kurt couldn't tell where this was going. "And?" He blushed.

"And my father was proud." Blaine paused, "He was proud because he thought it was from Quinn."

"Oh."

"So after what happened with Karofsky the other day-"

"Stop fidgeting, c'mere."

He shouldn't have interrupted, but Blaine looked so tiny. Something about the way he was dressed made Kurt feel the need to never let him go. Blaine sharing his regular wardrobe was something small, but also intimate, and Kurt really liked this version of Blaine. The _real _version, he thought as Blaine scooted closer, gladly accepting Kurt's offer.

"I'm tired of pretending, Kurt."

"Mmm." Blaine's skin was so soft.

"So I told my dad that it was _you_. I told him that I loved you."

Kurt's hand paused mid-stroke, and Blaine broke free sitting up to watch his reaction. Kurt followed suit, speechless. As soon as he was able to stop scowling at the thought of Quinn kissing Blaine, he realized what Blaine had revealed.

"I went to see Miss Pillsbury today and I came out to her, and then I had a mini break down because- god this sweater is itchy- I-"

"You love me?"

"Kurt," Blaine teased, something serious lingering behind his eyes, "Listen, my dad… he's- he's _out_ there, okay? I mentioned that to her, andshe asked if-" frustrated, he furrowed his brow, "I need to tell you something, but you're not allowed to freak out, okay?"

Realization dawned on Kurt's face before Blaine could muster the courage to spill his secret. "It _wasn't_ Karofsky, was it?" He looked down at Blaine's stomach as if he could see through the fabric, and horror-stricken Kurt fell silent.

Blaine fell silent too, fidgeting again in the uncomfortable static of the quiet.

"Oh god. Blaine." He reached out to both of Blaine's shoulders. "Your dad?"

He nodded.

"All this time, he? Are you okay? I can't believe I didn't. Oh my god." Kurt moved quickly to push up Blaine's sleeves, kissing the small bruises that littered his arms. He thought back to their first real conversation, when Blaine had asked if Burt was cool with his son being gay.

There were so many signs. Blaine had already told him so many times, and he hadn't been listening! Blaine closed his eyes, probably hoping he could disappear, but Kurt didn't want to let him this time. This time there would be no more secrets, and no more distractions.

He was here now.

Tonight it was just going to be Kurt and Blaine.

"Tell me everything."

* * *

><p>By the time Blaine convinced Kurt to let him go home- <em>'It'll be worse if I don't show up. I'll be fine, I promise.' Kurt watched him with wary eyes, 'What if you're not?' Blaine tip toed up to kiss him, 'I will be.' – <em>he'd done exactly as Kurt requested.

He'd told him everything.

He started with his first school, and wove his way in detail to Dalton. God he missed Dalton. He explained the no bullying tolerance, the red and blue uniforms… Eventually he had recounted his time spent at McKinley, and when Blaine had finally finished Kurt sat quietly taking it all in. It _was_ a lot to swallow, and when Kurt chose to speak he began with, "I feel like you've lived more than one life already."

Blaine certainly felt like he had.

Remembering his mother had been the hardest part. Blaine tried everything he could not to tear up, but images of blood and the stench of death were impossible to ignore. He cried quietly into Kurt's arms as the other soothed him, offering words of comfort and reassurance.

Blaine couldn't be comforted though. He knew it was his fault, even if Kurt said it wasn't. He'd torn his family apart. He thought of his sexuality. He felt sick. Blaine deserved what his father did to him; he'd taken his dad's true love.

He was so tired of this endless circle, of hating himself for lacking discipline. He couldn't help it, though! He couldn't stop it. He'd tried _so _hard to reject these feelings, but he just _couldn't. _

Blaine tried to think about someone hurting Kurt, but stopped as soon as he started. Kurt would never end up like his mother. He wouldn't let it happen. With her, Blaine had stood wide eyed, and watched. With Kurt, he wouldn't make that mistake again.

He'd fight.

Hell, he _was_ fighting already.

Blaine puffed up his chest, and entered his house. Not wanting to wait in his room to find out what kind of mood his dad was in, he headed towards the living room.

"Hey dad."

His father sat, sullen, in his armchair. His hand was tightly clutched around a vodka tonic. Blaine took a step back. It was probably going to be a bad night. Kurt was going to flip tomorrow when he saw the marks.

Even though he knew he was in for a beating, Blaine still felt relieved. Now that Kurt shared his secrets, maybe they could find a way to fix them together.

"Dad?"

Mr. Anderson forcefully moved his eyes from the ice in his drink to Blaine. He smiled courteously. "Yes, Blaine?"

_Weird_. The wickedness was there, but something was off. Usually Blaine could predict his father's every intention, but the more he searched his father's face the more none could be found.

"Uh, just. Wanted to say I'm home. Is everything," he was well aware that he was walking on thin ice, "okay?"

His dad stood up, cautiously set his glass on their coffee table and headed his way. _Here it comes. _Blaine closed his eyes, trying to remember some of the defensive moves Kurt had shown him in his basement.

Mr. Anderson stopped a foot from where Blaine stood, eyeing his appearance, and nodded. Blaine waited for the insults to begin, but they didn't.

"Blaine, I'm sorry."

_What? _Something was up. He hadn't acted this way since- since- Blaine couldn't even remember the last time his dad had apologized for something and looked like he meant it.

"F-for what?"

"Were you at that boys house just now?"

Should he lie? No, lying always made the punishments worse. He rooted his feet and got ready for the fists, "Yes."

"Hmph."

As soon as his father's hand reached for arm, Blaine met it with force from his free one. It wasn't enough to stop his father from swatting him away, and Blaine hated himself for thinking he could possibly have a chance at stopping the attack this time.

His father shot him a warning look, and rolled up his sleeve. _Okay_, Blaine thought, _wasn't expecting this. _

"These from last night, boy?" Blaine didn't know what was going on. If he said yes, he was sure his father would add more, saying they weren't. If he said no, then his father would teach him how to be stronger… by adding more. It was a lose lose situation.

"I don't know," he lied, "Um-"

"Don't lie to me, son."

There it was again. _Son? _Had his words from last night actually gotten through to his father? _'I love him, dad.'_ Blaine was so confused.

"And don't look at me like that! I meant what I said. I'm sorry. I fucked up." His dad started tearing up and shaking his head. "You're my boy, and look at you." Blaine looked away, trying to focus on other things in the room.

"You can't even look me in the eye!" At the level change, Blaine jumped, and his father laughed cynically. "What can I do to make this up to you? How can I-" An idea seemed to have struck him, "Introduce me to Kurt."

He said it so smoothly that Blaine almost immediately agreed. His father wanted to meet Kurt? Blaine was suspicious.

"Why?"

"Because you're my boy, and I need to start being your father. That starts by meet your… uh, friend."

He _was _apologizing. Blaine couldn't speak. His dad was sorry? Yeah. His dad was sorry. His talk _did _get through to him! He knew it!

Blaine ignored the uneasiness in his stomach. He knew this would happen one day. Screw his suspicions. Maybe his dad had been working with father Peter. Maybe he was finally accepting it, understanding.

He smiled, despite the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "But you said-"

"I know what I said, and I was wrong." He interrupted, stealing a look for his drink with a frown. Mr. Anderson closed his eyes and counted to three, "I want to meet him."

Blaine gave in and beamed at his father for the first time in years, "Okay. Yeah, okay. I'll ask him tomorrow." Feeling like he'd overdone it with the excitement, he looked to the floor, "I mean, if that's okay with you."

Mr. Anderson didn't answer. He returned to his chair, and picked up his drink. "Go get some sleep."

Blaine felt like Alice waking up from a long delusional dream. He ran up the stairs, giddy with happiness, and sent Kurt a text.

_To Kurt: Good news. Really good news!_

_To Kurt: Can't wait to see you tomorrow! :]_

* * *

><p>"-And he said he was sorry, Kurt! He said he was really sorry, and he asked if he could meet you tonight. He said-"<p>

Blaine had been rambling forever. Kurt wasn't sure what Mr. Anderson was up to, but he was damned well sure that if someone could beat and bruise their only child for years they sure as hell wouldn't be sorry for it overnight.

He wasn't sure how to relay that information to Blaine. So he thought, carefully, as Blaine rambled beside him.

"Blaine," he cupped Blaine's cheek, instantly feeling butterflies when the other nuzzled into the touch. "Let's talk about this for a second, k?" Blaine stopped talking. "Has he ever done this before? What could have possibly happened to make him sorry all of a sudden?"

"I don't know, maybe what I said changed his mind. That's the best part. It's like, he finally understands, you know? He wants to meet you, Kurt." Blaine frowned. "Why aren't you more excited about this?"

"I am, I am. I just want us to be careful. I want _you _to be careful. I've seen how he affects you. You don't deserve to get hurt again."

Blaine slumped in his chair. "You're right." Kurt felt guilty about ruining the moment, but things needed to be said. He loved that Blaine was happy, but the happiness was clouding his judgment.

Kurt had experienced that first hand, and he had missed all the signs leading up to Blaine's confession. He didn't want that to happen again. Blaine deserved the best.

"I'm sure your father cares about you, and I'm also positive that he's sorry about it, but I think that you should figure out why he's waited until now to say it. You know?"

Blaine wouldn't look at him. Kurt felt his heart breaking.

"Yeah. I've got to get to History class. Mr. Legge doesn't like me that much, and Quinn's in that class, so I can't be late. She'd probably sell me out for it."

"Stop that. Can I walk you?" Kurt reached over and straightened out Blaine's bowtie, trying not to grin to wide when Blaine giggled.

"Always."

* * *

><p>Blaine had been ignoring the looks he was getting all day. He was out to the school now, and his appearance change spread like wild fire in each class he attended. He ignored them all; because when he looked to his left and Kurt was there he knew he'd be fine. No matter what happened.<p>

The two of them stopped outside Blaine's third period class, and were ambushed from the side by a Latina dawning a Cheerios uniform.

"Hold it right there, powder puff. Give him to me."

Blaine ran forward and squashed her in a hug, "San!"

"Not now, Santana." Kurt shot her a look.

"Kurt. You know I'm going to get my way regardless. Now give me my little super trooper or face the consequences." She was already holding on to him, like Blaine was her property. She ruffled her hand through his plastered down curls, as he stood there completely defenseless and nodding his consent to Kurt.

"Fine. I'll see you later, then?"

Blaine nodded again. As Kurt walked away he refocused his attention on Santana, "I've missed you!"

"Missed you too, B."

* * *

><p>Being the baddest bitch in Lima, Ohio made her lots of things, but it did <em>not<em> make her stupid. Normally, Santana could spot signs of abuse miles away, having experienced it herself, but her fascination with playing match maker had gotten in the way this time.

Those bruises her boy toy over there was sporting were _not _from accidents or stairs. They didn't happen from P.E, or sports. The fresh purple on top of old yellows came from a fist. Santana just wasn't sure whose fist it was.

Someone in Blaine's life was putting him in danger, creating who knows what kind of scars- mental, physical- and it wasn't his mom- _poor kid- _so she assumed the obvious and did the only thing she could think of doing.

As much as she hated his teaching and stupidly styled brillow-pad hair, she did respect his intentions, so after school on one of the days Blaine was absent she'd sent for a private conversation with their choir teacher, Mr. Shue.

She caught Blaine looking into his classroom. Kids were sill filing in from the hallways, but hi teacher- Mr. Legge, was it?- was speaking to a man in a brown and black plaid suit. She was going to make this quick, she knew who the man was and what he wanted.

She just wanted Blaine to know he had her support too.

"I've been trying to talk to you for ages, babe, where have you been?"

"Sick." He said smoothly, not taking his eyes off the man in the suit.

"Right." San rolled her eyes, and threw her ponytail behind her head. "So anyways, I just wanted to tell you that Brit said yes!"

He looked at her. "Really?"

"Yup. Any goodies for me?" Her nerves were making her speech to fast, so she touched his bicep for a distraction. Why the hell not? Blaine had nice biceps. She was allowed to touch.

Laughing at her movement, Blaine replied, "Kurt said yes too."

"Aw! There's my little Yoda." She stopped to check out his locks, "I know he likes short hair, but is he really into gelmets?"

"Hey, it's not _that _bad!"

They laughed in unison before the brown plaid suit approached.

"-Uh, Excuse me, are you Blaine Anderson?"

Rude. They were in the middle of a conversation.

Blaine looked to Santana for encouragement. She nodded at him to answer the stranger's question.

"Well, can't be late for class. See you later Prince Charming."

Santana tapped Blaine on the ass, and headed for her next class, hoping she had done the right thing.

_I got you, Yoda. I believe in you babe._


End file.
